Phoenix Minstrel's Reflection Pool

These Are The Days of Remembrance

2011-10-31T14:51:00.000-05:00

All Hallows' Eve, 2011

Over the course of my life I have had a great deal of formation with respect to remembering the dead. Between ministry both as deacon and as pastoral musician, between witnessing and experiencing the bittersweetness that accompanies the death of a friend, loved one, or family member, and learning the stories behind both mine and my wife's ancestral lineage, no huge leap is necessary to find a place of respect for those who have crossed the bridge of death (over the River Styx, if you like) and have reached the Promised Land of Heaven, the Summerlands, or even the wayside stop some call Purgatory. Nor should a huge leap be needed. 'Nuff said.

In the last ten years I had several means of expression at my disposal. Two had the most impact - one being my dear wife's continuing to maintain memories of her own ancestral line, and the genealogy searches that spawned from it; and the other being the annual Requiem Mass that my Catholic congregation and choir sang every year while Fr. Damien was pastor. Though Fr. D. has retired and Fr. Bill just isn't into this traditional expression, it's been enough to carry me further. Our recent Big Move put us much closer to the cemeteries where our grandparents and great-grandparents are laid to rest..

Another of my expressions of remembrance was intended to be a little more public-facing. When I 'published' a weekly update of family life (nothing of any consequence, just a little 'we're still here' sort of thing), I began including a list of obituaries at this time of year honoring a few of the great and near-great who passed away over the preceding twelve months. It's an interesting read. Since last October 31 I lost two members of my wife's extended family within eight days of each other. Society has lost two of it's more notorious menaces, a technology and marketing wizard, and many other influential people. A romp through the obituary listings at Wikipedia took a couple of hours' time to whittle the list down to what follows. The list is far from complete, and I probably missed a few along the way. Remember them as well, as you remember friends, family, and the rest of my hand-picked list.

2010
November
1 - Monica Johnson, 64, American novelist and screenwriter (Lost in America, Modern Romance), esophageal cancer.
2 - Jule Sugarman, 83, American educator, creator and director of the Head Start Program, cancer.
3 - Jerry Bock, 81, American musical theater composer (Fiddler on the Roof, Fiorello!), heart failure.
4 - Sparky Anderson, 76, American baseball player and manager (Cincinnati Reds, Detroit Tigers), member of Baseball Hall of Fame, complications from dementia.
5 - Jill Clayburgh, 66, American actress (An Unmarried Woman, Ally McBeal, Dirty Sexy Money), chronic leukemia.
8 - Addison Powell, 89, American actor (Dark Shadows, The Thomas Crown Affair, Three Days of the Condor).
10 - Dino De Laurentiis, 91, Italian film producer.
28 - Leslie Nielsen, 84, Canadian-born American actor (Airplane!, The Naked Gun), pneumonia.

December
5 - Leslie Nielsen, 84, Canadian-born American actor (Airplane!, The Naked Gun), pneumonia.
15 - Blake Edwards, 88, American film director, producer and screenwriter (The Pink Panther, Breakfast at Tiffany's), pneumonia.
17 - Captain Beefheart, 69, American rock musician and artist (Trout Mask Replica), complications from multiple sclerosis.
20 - Steve Landesberg, 74, American actor (Barney Miller, Forgetting Sarah Marshall), colorectal cancer.
26 - Bernard Wilson, 64, American singer (Harold Melvin & the Blue Notes), stroke and heart attack.
28 - Agathe von Trapp, 97, Austrian-born American singer, member of the Trapp family (The Sound of Music).

2011
January
4 - Dick King-Smith, 88, British author (The Sheep-Pig, The Water Horse).
6 - Donald J. Tyson, 80, American business executive, Chairman of Tyson Foods (1967–2001), cancer.
11 - David Nelson, 74, American actor (The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet), colon cancer.
17 - Don Kirshner, 76, American record producer and songwriter, host of Don Kirshner's Rock Concert, heart failure.
18 - Sargent Shriver, 95, American diplomat and politician, Ambassador to France (1968–1970), Vice Presidential nominee (1972), complications from Alzheimer's disease.
24 - David Frye, 77, American satirist and Richard Nixon impersonator, cardiopulmonary arrest.

February
6 - Gary Moore, 58, Irish rock guitarist and singer (Thin Lizzy), heart attack.
12 - Kenneth Mars, 75, American actor (Young Frankenstein, The Producers, The Little Mermaid), pancreatic cancer.
28 - Jane Russell, 89, American actress (The Outlaw, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes), respiratory illness.

March
10 - Eddie Snyder, 92, American composer ("Strangers in the Night", "Spanish Eyes").
13 - (Uncle) Gene Harding, 82
18 - Warren Christopher, 85, American diplomat, Secretary of State (1993–1997), complications from kidney and bladder cancer.
21 - Theodore Green (brother-in-law), 44, cancer.
27 - DJ Megatron, 32, American disc jockey, shot.
30 - Jack Fulk, 78, American businessman, co-founder of Bojangles' Famous Chicken 'n Biscuits.

April
14 - Arthur Marx, 89, American writer, son of Groucho Marx.
17 - Michael Sarrazin, 70, Canadian actor (They Shoot Horses, Don't They?; The Flim-Flam Man; For Pete's Sake), cancer.

May
2 - Osama bin Laden, 54, Saudi founder of Al-Qaeda, planned September 11 attacks, shot.
3 - Jackie Cooper, 88, American actor (Skippy, Our Gang, Superman) and director (M*A*S*H).
4 - Richard Steinheimer, 81, American railroad photographer, Alzheimer's disease.
10 - Norma Zimmer, 87, American entertainer (The Lawrence Welk Show).
20 - Randy Savage, 58, American professional wrestler.
22 - Joseph Brooks, 73, American Grammy-winning songwriter ("You Light Up My Life"), suicide by asphyxiation.

June
3 - Andrew Gold, 59, American singer-songwriter ("Lonely Boy", "Thank You for Being a Friend"), heart attack.
3 - James Arness, 88, American actor (Gunsmoke), natural causes.
7 - Leonard B. Stern, 87, American television director, producer, and writer (Get Smart), creator of The Honeymooners, co-creator of Mad Libs.
12 - Alan Haberman, 81, American grocer, first to use the barcode system, heart and lung disease.
23 - Fred Steiner, 88, American television composer (Perry Mason, Star Trek, The Twilight Zone).
23 - Peter Falk, 83, American actor (Columbo, Murder, Inc., Pocketful of Miracles, The Princess Bride).
27 - Lura Lynn Ryan, 76, American First Lady of Illinois (1999-2003), cancer.

July
12 - Sherwood Schwartz, 94, American television producer, creator of The Brady Bunch and Gilligan's Island.
20 - Mary Simpson, 85, American minister, first woman to be ordained by the American Episcopal Church.
23 - Amy Winehouse, 27, British singer-songwriter ("Rehab"), accidental alcohol poisoning.

August
3 - Bubba Smith, 66, American football player (Baltimore Colts) and actor (Police Academy).
22 - Nickolas Ashford, 70, American R&B singer (Ashford & Simpson) and songwriter ("Ain't No Mountain High Enough"), throat cancer.

September
6 - Michael S. Hart, 64, American author, inventor of the e-book and founder of Project Gutenberg, heart attack.
10 - Cliff Robertson, 88, American actor (Charly, Spider-Man, PT 109), natural causes.
17 - Charles H. Percy, 91, American politician, Senator from Illinois (1967–1985), Alzheimer's disease.
17 - Eleanor Mondale, 51, American television personality, daughter of Walter Mondale, brain cancer.
19 - Dolores Hope, 102, American philanthropist, widow of Bob Hope, natural causes.
20 - Arch West, 97, American marketing executive credited with developing Doritos.
27 - David Croft, 89, British television comedy writer and producer (Are You Being Served?, Dad's Army).

October
3 - Arthur C. Nielsen, Jr., 92, American businessman (ACNielsen), Parkinson's disease.
5 - Steve Jobs, 56, American computer entrepreneur and inventor, co-founder of Apple Inc., pancreatic cancer.
8 - Roger Williams, 87, American pianist, pancreatic cancer.
18 - Bob Brunning, 68, British blues musician (Fleetwood Mac), heart attack.
20 - Muammar Gaddafi, 69, Libyan leader (1969–2011), shot.

Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and may perpetual light shine upon them.
May their souls, and the souls of all the departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace....Amen.

Quandary #11235

2011-08-24T14:58:00.001-05:00

I recently ran across this somewhat 'viral' status update making its way through Facebook:

"Can anyone tell me why it is so hard to pray, but easy to swear? Why clubs are growing and churches are shrinking? Why it is so hard to re-post a Christian status, but easy to post gossip? Why we can worship a celebrity, but not Jesus? Gonna ignore this? The Lord said, if you deny me in front of your friends, I will deny you in front of my Father. Re-post this if you're not ashamed and love Jesus."

I have no idea where this originated. The person who wrote and first posted this is likely a devout Christian, perhaps works or volunteers for a non-denominational ministry; may even be a full-time minister or pastor. I have no way to know.

Further, there's a long-standing quote from Jesus in the Gospels, to the order of 'that which is not against us is for us,' so posting such a status update and asking - no, let's call it challenging - others to copy it is not wrong.

But here's my quandary. As this is a such a great thought-provoking statement, why don't I see the same post as the status of my well-known devout Christian colleagues? Why haven't I seen a post like this from a church or other religious body with a presence on Facebook? I have 'liked' or befriended several. Surely those organizations or high-profile people with an Internet presence would want to promote the mission and vision of Jesus Christ in just this way.

But no. Viral posts like these, no matter how well intended, are generally copied and pasted from one's status to another without much thought. It reminds me of Jesus' quoting the prophet Isaiah when he says, This people pays me lip service, but their hearts are far from me. The proof: several of the people who copied and pasted the status into their own haven't likely seen the inside of a church in a very long time. I mean, not even Christmas and Easter seems to motivate some folks into a house of worship. A wedding or a funeral, perhaps - but begrudgingly perhaps, even then. (Forgive the obviously poor grammar, if not the accusation.)

That it is easier to swear and harder to pray is a mark of our human condition, a sign that we need at a minimum the example of someone like Jesus. Some will think that it wouldn't be that way if preachers didn't keep beating into their heads that they're not worthy of God's attention through prayer. The truth is, that we turn the tables; we don't give God the attention that we should. That secular socialism thrives while churches and congregations struggle is that in our human weakness we would rather be entertained than to focus on making a paradigm change in our lives. There are too many distract---no, too many excuses that have caused the following very real statistics to be shared among pastors and the governing bodies of many churches, congregations, and denominations:

While a church may have a large number of registered members, only about 30% attend consistently week-to-week. Of that 30%, about one in ten serve actively through volunteering to do the 'work of the Church', meaning serve in a program or service or ministry that reaches out beyond attending services. Musicians (such as myself), Sunday School teachers (aka catechists or Religious Education instructors), ministry to the homebound, the sick, the hungry, the homeless, the needy. In the end, only 3% of the community plans and executes, and 30% supports this work financially in the midst of their own financial struggles.The statistics came from the observation of leaders I worked with during ministry formation. They got those numbers the hard way: taking head counts at services over a couple of weekends in the fall (when people are less likely to be away on vacation trips) and comparing the totals to the total number of registered members.

I've drawn a couple of conclusions from this. First, God takes those percentages and goes a long way with them, much as Jesus took five loaves of bread and two fish and fed 5,000 men - plus an uncounted number of women and children - and still had twelve baskets of fragments remaining when all had eaten their fill. God is never outdone in generosity. This is something I have heard many times, and can personally attest to as a genuine truth. Might we be jealous of God's generosity when the recipient clashes with our perception of worthiness?

Secondly, to be able to understand this truth you have to be among those whom God works through to make things happen. Your relationship with God has to run deep and personal. God is not only Lord and Master, Father and Creator, Savior and Redeemer, Spirit and Life, but Friend and Companion. While you may experience any or all of the above independently, it is greatly enriched in the company of others. If great things happen with 3% and 30%, how much more would be done to advance the kingdom of God on Earth if those percentages were significantly higher?

While I do not subscribe to jumping on the viral status bandwagon, I struggle inwardly and outwardly to live my life to its best potential. I make mistakes; but I own up to them. I have great experiences and I share them; I have burdens for which I do my best to shoulder and appreciate encouragement as well as assistance when it's needed. All this is possible by the grace of God, and the love God shares with us through Jesus. I don't ignore it; I live it. I may not be the best living example, but I work at it every day. It's not something you can tweet in 140 characters or less, or summarize in a status update. You have to live it. The printed word alone has a habit of limiting and constraining the reader to the conformity and vision of the reader's mind. Let's try using more of our senses to become aware of who we are, where we are going, and in whom and what we truly believe.

Starting Over

2011-08-08T09:00:00.001-05:00

The 19th Week in Ordinary Time

Sunday's Word:
1 Kings 19:9a, 11-13a (The Lord comes to Elijah not in wind or fire or earthquake, but in a whisper)
Psalm 85 (v.9: I will hear what God proclaims)
Romans 9:1-5 (Paul explains Jewish heritage and the Covenant with God)
Matthew 14:22-33 (Jesus - and Peter - walk on water; a leap of faith)

Starting over.

With all that is going on around me at present, that's the first thing I thought about after hearing these passages yesterday. Starting over - and the leap of faith that is necessary to make everything come together.

As I write this morning, there are forty days remaining until we leave our dwelling place of the last 9-1/2 years. My wife and my son and I are all anticipating this move. Much has already been done to reduce the amount of 'stuff' we have accumulated; I've made four trips to the Goodwill donation center and the car was full each time. Much remains to do; the arduous and slower process of packing what we can ahead has begun, and other tasks which must wait until closer to the moving date continue to stare me in the face.

There are several objectives about this move that we hope to accomplish. Some of them will be easy, such as additional space, access to amenities and public transportation. Others are a bit more elusive and will require time and reflection. My wife and I had decided on the area to which we're moving because it is in the same Catholic diocese as the parish in which I serve as a music minister. But it is the diaconate, and the faithful horse waiting for its rider, that is among the factors that is taking us where we're going as opposed to elsewhere.

Milestone events - the big events in life - put us in the position of taking a leap of faith. Every change in location from the time I left my parents' home, every new job start, my marriage, my ordination - all have been accompanied by nervousness and anticipation. Have I made good choices? Have I planned well, accounting for potential problems or hangups? And from a spiritual perspective, am I leading the charge or being led?

Considering all the thought and prayer that has been raised going into this move - something that started while going through the last move - and for all the reasons my wife and I considered in making this move, I genuinely believe I am being led this time. Looking back, I can't say that about every big decision. The choices to which I've been led have been the most fruitful - being married 30 years to the same wonderful and thoughtful woman is the #1 example. To make that commitment took a leap of faith. To maintain it takes more leaps; most of them small, but several of them have been large, and I make them all gladly.

There is less of an agenda in this new move. It is more about 'we' and less about 'me.' It's why I believe I'm being led to do this now. Further, my family is taking a larger leap of faith in the sense that they must trust me in taking care of the pre-moving arrangements apart from packing. In the end, I am reasonably certain all will go well; still, I pray that there be no unknown situation that will short-circuit the process. In short, I pray that God continues to lead me.

With that, we jump into these next 40 days. It was my wife who said first, "we're moving into Lent again." In a manner of speaking, we are indeed. We are climbing the mountain, as it were; and the to-do list looks like a rocky climb, indeed. I am no mountain climber. I rely on my faith that I will be shown the correct and safest path.

Filled with the Holy Spirit

2011-06-12T18:36:00.000-05:00

Pentecost Sunday

There's a fine line for both disciple and inquirer/observer when it comes to discerning how devout and genuine is one's walk in the Christian faith.

The New Testament contains numerous references to being "filled with the Holy Spirit." John the Baptizer is near the beginning of the list, running through the Apostles through Paul of Tarsus, and ending with a smattering of names of people who were instrumental in the early Christian communities.

Then there's Harold Camping. In case you've just joined us or have forgotten, Mr. Camping heads a non-denominational ministry called Family Radio, and grabbed a great deal of press coverage about seven weeks ago when he announced that the Rapture would occur this past May 21, with the end of the world - as everyone knows it - five months later. This date was supposedly calculated by Camping (and I would presume by at least an assistant or two on his staff) based on 'statistics' found in the book of Revelation. On that great day, those most faithful of believers would all be taken to heaven, and those "left behind" would face the tribulations of the Last Judgment, culminating with the destruction of this world. When May 21 came and went and nothing out of the ordinary appeared to have happened, Camping said he was "bewildered" but stuck to his prediction that October 21 would indeed mark the end of time. (This is, of course, a full fourteen months before the ancient Mayan calendar runs out of days.)

It's not my intention to comment on the "end times" here. There's been more than enough of that and there will be more. It is all speculation. Further, Revelation is written in the figurative language of apocalyptic literature - and not the only example of same in the Judeo-Christian repertoire. During those seven weeks of notoriety, the ultimate question becomes: Is Mr. Camping filled with the Holy Spirit - or full of something else? Again, lots of speculation. He's an octogenarian and could be suffering elements of the diseases among the elderly I'm becoming familiar with as my parents and I age. Any and all manner of rational, plausible configurations are possible. That being said, I'm not out to affirm or condemn Mr. Camping, or what he believes or preaches. That is not the point.

People thought Deacon Stephen was a bit over the edge when he testified that he saw 'the heavens opened' and Jesus sitting at the right of the throne of almighty God. For that matter, a great many people thought Jesus was over the edge, too. Jesus had promised the apostles that another advocate would be sent to them after his departure. None of them really understood what that meant until it happened. But when it happened, it was immediately understood what was to be done.

Receiving the Holy Spirit does not mean you will instantly know everything. That was apparent as we proceed through the writings of the New Testament. What it does mean is that the recipient is better prepared to face whatever God will present in that person's life. This continued presence of God among us is often misunderstood and even overlooked, the emphasis being so much on the person of Jesus as he lived among the people of 1st Century Palestine. It is that presence that moved Paul and the other apostles in the spread of Christianity. It is that presence that one seeks, and finds in the vibrant congregations of today.

On this day, considered to be the birthday of the Church, let us be thankful for this great gift of divine love. May we be moved to think more about the part of our being that is connected to the Divine; to receive anew and afresh the Holy Spirit of God. Let us be filled with that presence - lest we become full of something else.

Looking Both Ways

2011-05-14T17:12:00.002-05:00

Seventeen years ago this very day, I turned a page in my life's journey that changed me forever. It was the day I received the sacrament of Holy Orders and was ordained to the permanent diaconate of the Roman Catholic Church. It is one of the most pivotal moments of my life. It was and is still one of the proudest moments of my life.

After all is said and done, it is also one of the most sobering and maturing events of my life. Everything that transpired in the preparation for accepting the office and everything I experienced during the five years I executed that office has indeed influenced my spiritual growth and my relationship with God. The entire experience, still being lived out, has brought me a deep level of appreciation for everything that has come into my life since. Without this, I don't know - and don't wish to know - what I might have become.

I was the center of my own universe back then. I was going to have my cake, and eat it, too. I thought I was going to rise above myself, and proved that it's not possible before you are plunged to as deep as you can stand. Only then do you realize that God must be in the details, and only then can God raise you up. Then you realize that the cake you eat as your daily bread is only yours because God has provided it.

In my innocence, or naivete, or both, I once thought that the Church, as God's legacy upon the earth, had all the answers to ensure your ticket on the road that leads to heaven was properly validated. What God has ultimately taught me since is indeed a blessing. No, the Church doesn't have all the answers, something of which the better leaders will tell you if you pause long enough to listen; although there are an equal number of leaders who will still make every attempt to place her as the ultimate spiritual authority on Earth. No matter how many or few 'I's are dotted or 'T's are crossed, God wants you to come to those understandings about Him one-on-one.

I've also been blessed by God with the understanding that His providence is eternally abundant, even when I can't see it. On the other side of the fence, there are numerous examples that God's 'franchisees' - the hundreds of religious denominations that fall under the general umbrella of Christianity, those who claim Jesus Christ at the core of their beliefs - do not understand the importance of demonstrating, in a real and direct way, the abundance with which God gives freely.

As an example, I was following the semi-continuous reading of passages from the Acts of the Apostles; particularly chapter 6, in which is detailed the origin and establishment of the diaconate:

As the number of disciples continued to grow, the Hellenists complained against the Hebrews
because their widows were being neglected in the daily distribution (of food).
So the Twelve called together the community of the disciples and said,
“It is not right for us to neglect the word of God to serve at table.
Brothers, select from among you seven reputable men, filled with the Spirit and wisdom,
whom we shall appoint to this task, whereas we shall devote ourselves to prayer
and to the ministry of the word.” (Acts 6:1-4, NAB, emphasis mine)

I am thankful that this statement is not attributed to Peter alone, but to the Apostles as a whole. I want to believe there was more than just casual discussion over the issue, because the joint statement and decision of the Twelve seems to have forgotten just how Jesus went about doing things. Not only did he clearly take on the role of servant by feeding multitudes on five loaves of bread and two fish, and setting the standard for the sacred meal that most Christians celebrate with regularity, he also reduced himself to washing the feet of those same Apostles. Seems like they forgot about that somehow, and that's sad. I get the feeling it set the precedent for all those gatherings of what I call the "Old Boys' School", where there is often great debate, perhaps a hefty amount of prayer, but the ultimate result is that nothing gets done to further the single great commandment Jesus left his Apostles: that they love one another as he loved them.

That notwithstanding, I am trying to be a bit more cognizant of my own ability to 'change the world', as it were. In a recent post I wrote that my wife had asked me to consider getting back into the active ministry. The horse I'd fallen from twelve years ago is still there; in fact, I realize that I've been walking alongside it for most of the time. There are many things that would have to take place to reconcile the events that led to my fall. It will take time, in terms of years, to reach that point, if I can do so. This time, if it is to happen, it will mean first to discern the place and scope of where and how God will direct my steps. It will mean assuring that I extend God's blessings to my loved ones to the fullest extent possible. It means now more than ever to consider those who are near their own depths, and to pray that God raises them up as only He can.

Then, after looking both ways and acknowledging my lingering imperfections, I will cross that bridge if it is meant to be.

Blind Obedience vs. Divine Mercy

2011-05-01T18:59:00.000-05:00

The Second Sunday of Easter, 2011
Divine Mercy Sunday

While considering the possible presence of a horse without its rider, and the long-term decision I must discern over how God is calling me to serve others in ministry, another story was breaking in nearby Chicago that I am trying not to dwell on, but cannot.

Fr. Michael Pfleger is well known around this area. He is a priest of the Archdiocese of Chicago. I'm not sure whether I should classify him as an activist, a maverick, the proverbial "elephant in the room" - or whether I should even comment on him here. I have chosen the latter, because the latest turn of events surrounding Pfleger is a reminder of something I must face as an ordained minister of the Catholic Church.

Pfleger has been pastor of St. Sabina Church - a white priest leading a parish in a predominately African-American big-city neighborhood - for the past 30 years. This is an unusual exception to policy; Catholic priests in America spend no more than twelve years leading any one congregation. He has publicly campaigned in support of gun control and other urban issues, and rallied his parishioners to do the same. Unlike most Catholic priests, Pfleger's preaching style is more Pentecostal or even Southern Baptist; hence, it's not a stretch to see him as one of the three descriptive words mentioned in the preceding paragraph.

When Cardinal Francis George became Archbishop of Chicago fourteen years ago, he brought with him a conservative approach, as opposed to the more open appeal of his predecessor, the late Cardinal Joseph Bernardin. At one point earlier George tried to reassign Pfleger, which stirred up immediate media attention and set the stage for a confrontation. After several days which included meeting with representatives of the congregation at St. Sabina's, George backed down and Pfleger retained his post. The current situation has all the same earmarks.

When men receive the sacrament of Holy Orders and are ordained priests (and deacons), they take a vow of obedience to their local bishop. Herein lies the rub. On the one hand, Pfleger is uniquely gifted as a priest and has been a good fit, surprisingly so, in a congregation where he immediately sticks out. On the other hand, the policy of rotating clergy is meant so that each priest's gifts or charisms can be shared over the course of his ministry with many diverse people.

Basically, the issue boils down to obedience on Pfleger's part; 'go where I send thee' versus making an appeal for the best potential use of an unusual set of abilities. Unfortunately, Pfleger made one critical error this time; saying in front of local media that he might consider leaving the Catholic Church if things didn't go his way. Pfleger has since been suspended from exercising his ministry as a priest by Cardinal George, pending a meeting in the not too distant future when cooler heads and less attention by the media might prevail.

I remember that at issue in the removal of my faculties back in 1999 was something that could be interpreted as disobedience. I was subject to continuing education requirements that I failed to complete. I had tried asking for alternatives that would allow me to remain active, but no alternatives ever materialized. Should I pursue a return to diaconal ministry, I will be subject to whatever demands are in effect in whatever diocese I should happen to apply for reinstatement. I have no real connection with Rockford anymore. What ministry I do is in the Joliet diocese, and I don't currently reside within its boundaries. On top of that, what I do there as a lay minister is compensated - and in order to assist in financing my ultimate relocation, wherever it is, I can't exactly give that up just yet. My son got very wrapped up in "high church" Catholic liturgy on TV over Easter and again this weekend with the beatification of the late pope John Paul II. (JP II and Cardinal Bernardin were both moderates, in my opinion. They opened up a richer sense of being Catholic by extending the accumulated tradition to include people, icons, and symbology from the present.)

Then there is the attachment I have with the Methodist congregation at Cornerstone. They have not lost their appeal. I see a community with heart that is struggling, yet there's still great hope and encouragement. They are personal and personable; something I never really saw growing up Catholic. Catholics believe in eucharist; Cornerstone acts as eucharist. They don't see me or my son as anomalies. The door always seems to be open there.

That makes discernment all the more difficult. For sure, my outlook has changed; and I am nothing of the character of Fr. Phleger. Having said that, though, God gave me the ability to think. To me, obedience can border on blind acceptance, but should never be so blind as to allow those in power to use that authority in a manner inconsistent with the mercy God has bestowed on humanity - mercy that, Jesus teaches us, is meant to be extended everywhere by every Christian. I believe that God's divine mercy is at the very core of all Christianity; surpassing anything taught or imagined regarding divine justice. Those following Christ in sincerity are still going to have bouts of disobedience. It happens in our human experience.

Since the moving question must be answered soon, I have extended my search criteria to include areas within the Joliet diocese that would still allow us to attend Cornerstone while I continue to sort out what I'm really supposed to do. I think that is what is best served for now. Once resettled, I hope to resolve - with God's help, and the counsel of people whose input I value, not the least of which are my wife and son - where the horse and rider will go.

Contemplation

2011-04-25T10:40:00.000-05:00

Easter Monday, 2011
The Feast of Saint Mark, Evangelist

Easter Monday is a full holiday in many parts of the world. Here in the USA it's back to work from the Good Friday and Easter celebrations, if you were fortunate not to have to work either or both days. (Yes, I'm sure there are many people who had to work both days.)

I arranged to take today off to transition from service mode (seven events between Thursday evening and Sunday morning) back to working mode. While people are encouraged to reflect during the Lenten season now behind us, I tend to look at the sequence of short-term past events and use it as a springboard to see what direction my life is taking and what I should (or shouldn't) do.

Previously in this chronicle I posted that I lost two members of my extended family in March, less than two weeks apart. There were also three funerals in my Catholic community (the last of which is actually tomorrow). These serve as reminders to me that life patterns are not meant to be static or stagnant. Even behind the scenes, there is still movement and direction.

At the funeral of my wife's uncle, I vested as a deacon and served in that function for the first time in six years. One of the things I noted about this occasion was the utter simplicity in which I was able to 'get back on the bicycle.' Today that is followed by the thought that being liturgically present as a deacon set a prayerful example for those who witnessed it. At least I pray it so. I have managed for the most part to maintain the discipline of daily prayer of the Divine Office, and kept my daily schedule routine enough to catch daily Mass on the radio while driving to work. Trust me, I need these reminders. I once complained about what I saw as a lack of Catholic presence in modern media sources, but that has caught up. I now believe that Catholics have a larger presence among social media (internet, radio, and television) than any other mainstream Christian denomination, save only the independent evangelical movement.

The services in which I participated this year all had new spins placed upon them, given this is the first year under new pastors in both my Catholic and Methodist communities. One of those differences allowed my son and I to participate in the Good Friday service in the Methodist community. The rest of the weekend, my son took a more than passive interest in the high church liturgies on EWTN, the Catholic cable TV channel. I didn't miss much myself as the time difference between Rome and Chicago allowed me to watch significant parts of "church on TV" including a sung proclamation of the Passion according to John, 'performed' in Latin by two deacons, a priest, and a full a capella choir. It is always impressive. I asked him if he'd like to see high liturgy in person, if it were possible, and he said yes, he'd like that.

Meanwhile, my wife is continuing to work on the family ancestry, a 'song that never ends' sort of thing. Just when you think you have run all the lines to the point where there is no longer any reliable or verifiable information, those little 'leaves' pop-up with all kinds of new suggestions where none existed only a day or two earlier. What was originally thought to be a two or three week project is now in its third month! An interesting theory has come up as a result of all the research she has done and what she has uncovered about our collected ancestry. For openers, a significant portion of my wife's lineage figured in the settling of Quebec in the early 17th century. Some were involved in the building of the cathedral of St. Anne du Beaupre in Montreal, and other churches in the French colony. After more research, it was learned that my lineage on my mother's side held high positions in many churches in England in the pre-reformation period. Ironically, these churches were named after (St.) Mary, the mother of Jesus. St. Mary was the church I was active in during the years leading up to my ordination as as deacon in 1994 and for the five years I served actively in parish diaconal ministry. (You can now start humming the theme music to The Twilight Zone.) Strange as it seems, that whole thing about personality traits, the stuff of the soft occultism of astrology and past lives, may have its real basis in the building blocks of life, the DNA molecules that determine what color hair and eyes we have. That there is a spiritual dimension to DNA should not startle anyone, but it is one of those areas few on either the side of science or the Church dare to cross.

The fast of Lenten discipline over, my wife prepared a lavish (understated) Easter dinner. In years long past we would spend Easter with extended family. Over the last few years it has become necessary for many reasons to redefine how much extended family can gather at one place for one banquet. It's not that we wouldn't like to be present; but it's challenging to figure out how to seat everybody, and it gets really hard to host such an affair when the guest list increases exponentially. The only person I know who handled that easily was Jesus himself. Needless to say, the planned meal here exceeded all expectations. My wife worked very hard timing all the cooking and preparation, and she is indeed a blessed woman to be able to pull it off.

After all that, the two of us are exhausted and, wanting to spend a few minutes quietly with each other, went to our room to stretch out for a few minutes. But once there, the conversation took a quick turn I didn't anticipate.

Would I consider returning to the active diaconate?

That's the question my dear wife asked me. She told me she had been prompted by my service at her uncle's funeral, and seeing how much connection to church I seem to have inherited through what we have uncovered in my family's roots.

While I had not deeply considered the question, it had also come to me as a result of serving at that funeral. Add to that the dimension I believe I bring into ministry at present as a musician. I am perhaps the only cantor at an Easter Vigil service who is ordained, as opposed to an ordained deacon assuming the role of a cantor for one portion of a specific rite. Not that I am perfect, or that I want to sound my own horn here, but I have observed how seriously I take this, putting as much of myself in these moments as a minister as I'm able to allow. So the question, while something of a momentary surprise, was not unexpected.

Where I would probably have jumped eagerly to this question had it been asked twelve years ago, I'm not able to answer the question just now. Something about the character of the soul because I have been ordained compels me to address it. It's not simply a matter of 'hey, I missed you, so I'm back' - or even like the return of the prodigal son. It's something like an estranged relationship that is going to require steps to restore and maintain. Then there's the question of what to do about the relationships I have cultivated over the last twelve years - why I cultivated them, and why they're important today. On top of that, there are two larger issues that require resolution before anything else. First, we have outgrown our current dwellings, and want to find a new place to live. The advantages we have here are being eclipsed by the higher cost of living and other disadvantages of living in the same county as Chicago. There's also the question of being closer to my parents. The situation is awkward at best; my dad tells me not to feel guilty about not having time to see them - but that comes off making me feel guiltier. Just the same, I know that the issue is not whether to move, but where to move; and it has to be answered first.

Then, it looks like the bicycle and the horse I fell from twelve years ago is looking for its rider. The problem is, when I last rode them at length, I had no idea where they would take me. God is asking me to go through this again; because I said I could all those years ago. But can I willingly do it all - and all that goes with it - again?

And Yet Another Passing

2011-03-27T13:59:00.000-05:00

When William Shakespeare - whom, I am learning, is a distant ancestor of my wife's - wrote, "A soothsayer bids you beware the ides of March" (Julius Caesar, Act 1, scene 2, 19), he was setting up the backdrop for the Roman Emperor's assassination which took place on March 15, 44 BCE. It would seem in that particular setting, March that year was a rather busy and fateful month.

For me, some twenty and a half centuries later, this particular March has been personally busy and fateful as well. A week ago I related here that my wife's 83-year-old uncle passed away, and all that we as a family went through to pay our respects and mourn his loss. The next morning (this past Monday) we learned of the death of her brother-in-law, of cancer, at the more youthful age of 44.

The first thought was whether or not any of us would attend services for him. He lived over two hours away from us, and we had to consider the number of potential (or lack of) restroom stops we might have to make. The trip out there would be during the day, but the return trip would be at night, with fewer options as far as being able to stop. Then there was the fact that he was brother-in-law through a divorced marriage. But in her great wisdom, my wife reminded us both that we are godparents to two of his three children from that marriage; they would definitely appreciate having family around, and it was very unlikely that anyone else would be able to make the trip, especially on a weeknight and so soon after the last family gathering. So we agreed that I would go.

Sure enough, I met up with my sister-in-law and her two sons, as well as her present husband, who was about as lost in the room as I. We spent a good deal of time keeping each other company. Having lived out there a number of years, my sister-in-law and her boys had plenty of folks to talk to. A lot of people turned out for the visitation and the memorial service; so many that the funeral director had to bring out more chairs to seat everyone.

I had not necessarily known my brother-in-law to be all that much of a church-going man. My godchildren were baptized at a Catholic church in Chicago one summer when he was working there. (He worked for a traveling carnival back then and must have worked some mojo with the pastor at the time.) His mother and aunts were also Catholic. Toward the end of his life, my brother-in-law (or at least his second wife) was attending an evangelical church in the area, so the pastor there was going to lead the service, while his aunts would lead the Rosary later. Nobody left between the two rites of prayer.

It was weird listening to the pastor speak of what a good, caring person my brother-in-law had been, noting in my mind that he had, after all, deserted his first marriage, leaving his first wife and their three children in a rather bad way. And from all my upbringing and education in the Catholic faith, I know he must answer to God for that, with whatever consequences are deemed fitting. Still, to see how the boys and their mother accepted this, and spoke as did others about how the pain and suffering of his last days was now gone, reminded me that no matter what happened in life, the best thing anyone can do is to put aside whatever ill feelings we might have and pray for the repose of his soul.

I thought of that during the long drive home. I have many occasions where I am ministering to the family of someone who has died, none of whom I really know. It is easy enough to pray for them because I don't know the background, and it is not important that I know. When the scene shifts as it will more and more to people with whom I am related or colleagues of mine, I really have to lay down all thoughts of the things I knew about the person, and commend this soul to God. All of us struggle and stumble through life. I think I can apply that across the board, if you will. In the end, where it really matters, is where I hope I can see forgiveness and mercy. It was clear that on this cold March evening, the two were found in this out-of-the way place. I pray not to lose sight of this as life somehow gets back to its regular patterns.

Some Sort of 'Lude'

2011-03-27T13:06:00.000-05:00

(Note: I actually wrote this post four weeks ago, when I had a bit of time and not much else to do. Put in the context of what has happened in these last four weeks, a few lines here seem almost prophetic.)

What does one do when you have a limited amount of so-called ‘free’ time, but you’re not in a place where much can be done effectively? One such example of this is if you travel by airplane, and you have to change flights in mid-course. You most likely have a layover at the terminal where you change flights. Chances are you can’t go anywhere, save the bar at the airport. People caught in that scenario are usually thoughtful enough to bring along a book or something else to do to occupy their time. In these modern days of cell phones and wi-fi connections, some people take to their phones and/or laptops and attempt to be productive that way.

I am in a similar situation this Sunday morning. I am serving as cantor at all three scheduled Masses, and there is a layover between each of them. Too long to sit and do nothing, too short to really do anything. On occasions like this I usually take a quick drive to the cemetery where many of my (and my wife’s) immediate ancestors are buried; it is only a five-minute drive away. But it is late February, and the grounds are covered with a fresh layer of snow; and if it weren’t it would likely be too saturated to walk on without getting muddy, so that is out. (However, I am thinking of them in prayer as I write.)

I might have considered calling home. My wife is going through an elaborate family tree research project. It started out as trying to trace her mother’s side of her family back a few generations, but didn’t get too far. When she moved to her father’s side, though, she got caught up in much detail, particularly her paternal grandmother’s French roots, which she’s managed to trace back five centuries and shows no signs of an end just yet. In all of that she’s found out that a great number of her ancestors figured in the settlement of Quebec in Canada, though that is just the tip of the proverbial iceberg.

But I digress. I said I might call her – only I left my cell phone at home. Plus, she doesn’t need interruptions that aren’t important while she does all this research. So, I thought, bring the laptop along. I might get some work done; at the very least I’d have the internet to keep me company. But, as my Catholic parish has an expansive land footprint between the church, the parish center, and the parking lot, there is no wireless signal close enough for me on which to get attached. So, now what??

I’ve had time to think about the last few weeks, along with the next few, and how I am being of service to God and to others. I can’t say I haven’t been busy. I don’t want to toot my horn too much, for I would be quickly reminded that I am not nearly as generous in my situation as I’ve known others to be in theirs. But in my relatively unique position of straddling the fence between a Catholic and a Methodist congregation, I indeed have a bit to reflect upon.

It’s relatively quiet in my Catholic community. Easter is still two months away; Lent hasn’t even started yet. The new pastor here is slowly changing things; a little here, a bit there, nothing to get excited about. Over in the land of the Methodists, on the other hand, things are jumping. They are at a crossroads as a congregation, not only with the change in pastors there (and the new one a woman, my first experience as such), but with the realization that they have to work off a $3 million debt put on by expanding their facilities and building classrooms, meeting rooms, and a youth center.

A couple of weeks back I was asked if I would be willing to volunteer some time contacting members of the congregation, asking them to raise awareness in prayer for their stewardship campaign. Among the goals of this campaign is the elimination of the debt over the next three years. I thought for nearly a week as to whether or not I should really do this. I am probably the least likely to represent the achievement of the goals. I openly admit that I straddle two diverse and markedly different congregations, one out of tradition and where I am compensated for my talent, which keeps us financially solvent and for which I am thankful to God. The other, more contemporary, putting a fresh and more vibrant spin on being a disciple of Christ; and one where I am considered a member even though I am not, formally.

Now throw on top of this today’s Gospel passage from the pen of the evangelist Matthew:

Jesus said: 24 “No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other; or else he will be devoted to one and despise the other. You can’t serve both God and Mammon” (Matthew 6:24).

Hmmm…this begs a couple of questions. Am I trying to serve God, or myself? And I have to be careful, because as a musician the ministry can become self-serving instead of God and community-serving rather quickly. So, to volunteer more than just getting up in front of others to sing, even if it’s just to sing – that extra time spent calling others to prayer is a proper and good thing to do.

But what about the fence straddling? Is it possible to serve God from two seemingly different perspectives? From a lofty, hierarchical approach, men would generally say no, I can’t. But I don’t know that I can choose one or the other. I am invested in the one because of my office as well as the compensation. I am invested in the other because of my son’s interest and attachment there. I have had several friends there and made others over the course of time. Further, it doesn’t seem that I am the only person who is affected in such a way. No, it is good for me to understand Christianity from more than one perspective or experience. Tradition cannot be ignored, nor should it; for we don’t know where we are without understanding where we’ve been. Putting that into a contemporary context is welcome provided it is not self-serving, but fosters a true extension of God’s will into the modern world; a practice of Christ’s Great Commission to his disciples. Some congregations are able to pool resources, especially in urban areas; but when you’re a standout, you have to stand out. I’ve seen this in a very real and demonstrative way among the Methodist congregation, and I pray fervently that it doesn’t die in the wake of pastoral change, aging congregants no longer able to attend worship on Sunday, or concern about a massive debt. So it is apparent that I have a vested interest there for my own sake as well as that of my son. Are we not all family in the same, the one Christ underneath the skin of denominational doctrine?

In that same passage, Jesus reminds his disciples to seek first the kingdom of God…and He will see to all your needs; in short, not to worry needlessly, because God’s omnipresence knows what we need even without having to ask. So the real question all of Scripture should call on us to ask of ourselves, and in our prayer to God, is two-fold. One, as so gracefully and artistically put by an instructor of mine, is So what?? What does this have to do with me? And the answer is: it has everything to do with me, who I am, where I’ve been and where I am going. It is not an easy path, but it seems to be immeasurably easier than a path where this first question is never asked.

The second question follows almost immediately on the heels of the first: Lord, what is it you want of me? What is your will for me? I will watch, listen, and observe as You guide me.

It seems the best response at these crossroads comes from the founder of Methodism, John Wesley. The Methodist Covenant Prayer is a reminder to me that God may not have big plans for me, but he does have a Plan and in order to best discern how I fit in it, I must yield myself to whatever it is – and whatever it is not – I am supposed to do.

And so, when those times come along when I think I have nothing to do but wait…are the best times to be with God in the place where I am, and let Him turn me in the direction I should go.

Spiritual Stupor

2011-03-20T19:42:00.000-05:00

Once upon a time, some years ago when I was serving in diaconal ministry, the pastor under whom I served at the time had given a homily in which he said something to the effect that people guided in the spiritual way of life often had periods of difficulty in managing everyday, mundane affairs. It is perhaps the one thing I remember him saying that had special meaning for me.

While my biggest role in ministry has been as a church musician, it has often been eclipsed by the role just below it, that of a minister of consolation at a time of loss. While in formation for the ministry over 20 years ago, my wife and I suffered the loss of our first child in the 19th week of my wife's pregnancy. The ensuing weeks following this sad event opened my eyes to the level of grief that can be experienced when tragedy occurs. I believe that through this process God pointed the way to a level of service I would carry out, and I desired to do so to honor my lost child's memory for as long as God would allow me.

When my active diaconal service came to an end, the door to this ministry did not close completely. It was not long before I was asked if I could be available for singing at funeral services, which I have been able to accept most of the time. On the occasions when I serve in this capacity I do my best to leave my ego far removed from my duties; to be simply present and let God work through me.

There have been four other occasions when the role took on a significance outside what I might consider normal, if there is such a thing when death occurs. These four have all involved members of my extended family. The first was when my father-in-law passed, just over seven years ago. He was never much of a church-goer, so it was no stretch of any rule to officiate at his rites of passage. That safe passage to the next life being our hope is almost universally accepted; so it becomes a matter of celebrating the good moments and experiences we shared in this life.

Having said that, it's still not simple. The target audience - the living survivors and friends of the family - know who you are, so it can be difficult to put into the best words what hope and consolation I am consigned to convey. Further, as a minister, those closest to you know the pattern of your life both during and apart from service. I have to put the situation at hand in the best possible and meaningful light on one hand; and on the other, take out the trash, wash the laundry, and do my best at my secular day job. Somehow I manage.

My grandmother passed six years ago this month. Being a devout Catholic, her funeral was set according to the formal rites of the Church. This is kept pretty well with regards to the Mass itself; but the elements apart from it vary depending on the local parish and the communication between the parish staff and the family of the deceased. My grandmother knew the Rosary and the verse about the angels meeting her and taking her to Paradise; neither of which were mentioned at either the wake or the funeral Mass. When my father and uncle finally let it be known I was a minister, I was asked if I wouldn't mind leading prayers at the cemetery where she was to be buried. I agreed to do it, and at that moment I knew what I had to do. I had to invoke those things she would have expected to hear and had not.

Three years ago, the father-in-law of my wife's sister passed away. At the time, I had already contracted to sing at another funeral Mass in my parish of service, but I agreed to meet the family at the cemetery and lead prayers there. I had the fortune to catch up with them toward the end of the Mass, so I was able to talk at length with my brother-in-law (the procession to the cemetery being another long drive). I really wanted to convey hope and consolation to him, because his life was changing in a way which could prove out harmful to his loved ones and himself if left unchecked. Something tells me he is still struggling with this loss, as well as that of his mother a couple of years earlier.

The most recent of the four happened just this last week, when my wife's uncle passed away. There was the usual wait to discover the arrangements, and another wait to determine what, if anything, anyone wanted me to do. Complicating matters was the ongoing recovery my wife was enduring from an injury she sustained late last fall. Between aches and pains and the winter weather, she had not been out of our home since just before Christmas. She was determined, however, that she was going to make it to see the family. She had been close to her uncle during childhood.

Before the time came for the wake service, I still didn't know exactly what I was supposed to be doing; only that I was going to do something. And at the appropriate time, we prepared to leave to attend the wake, only to discover that the moment my wife put any shoes on her feet, she lost her sense of stability and couldn't move without pain and uncertainty. Not knowing what to do, and having no time to explore an alternative, I had to attend the wake alone. I know my wife was heartsick, and so was I. However, she was going to explore potential solutions and if anything was possible, she would contact me.

Contact me she did. A department store chain with a store in the area carried ballet-style slippers. Just enough of a sole to protect the feet from pebbles and such, but with the give she needed to have the near-barefoot feeling she had while walking about the house. I was able to find a pair in her size which did the trick. At least now she would be able to attend the Mass and see those in the family who would be there.

At the same time, I also discovered what it was I would do for the funeral. I would serve as a deacon at Mass, something I had not done in twelve years. I weighed on this for some time. I felt this was appropriate as my wife's uncle, a devout Catholic himself, had offered his home to us on the day I was ordained to celebrate the event. I would also lead prayers at the cemetery, which I'd done before.

Even though I knew what I was to do, and did it without difficulty, I have had this strange feeling of wandering around in something of a daze; it's been around since the wake Thursday night and still hasn't quite cleared up. Part of it can be rationalized away, I suppose. It's a busy time for me; I've had to step in and do more since my wife's injury which takes away from time spent on other intellectual pursuits (not complaining at all; it simply is). But there was something about vesting again after twelve years, something I can't put into words. For some reason, time is turning faster right now. Life in general, which had been more or less quiet, has become busy. I've not been able to sleep well for some time, but I manage to do what is needed. I have much over which to pray and often find myself unable to focus on prayer itself; this disturbs me a little. At the same time, my wife and I are still very much happy and in love with each other for who we are.

I sincerely hope and pray that whatever the destiny of my life is as I grow older, that I am granted the strength, perseverance, and love to endure it.

When You Know A Child 'Gets It'

2011-02-21T20:39:00.000-06:00

I've got to give credit to my autistic teenage son.

He may not come across as the sharpest tool in the shed. In fact, there are times when my wife and I both wonder what planet he is on. (For that matter, we've shared that same question about ourselves in comparison to other people close to us.)

But God is able to work through him. Sometimes I think that this is the blessing in such an affliction; that the mind is unaffected by focus on mundane concerns so as to be 'in the moment' compassionately when others are in need. In spite of the hindrances I have placed on my son by being who I am, he still manages - and in a positive and enthusiastic way - to contribute to the needs of others. It's happened twice now in the last six months, and has me rethinking how much I should consider doing to support people doing charitable humanitarian works.

The first opportunity came up last September. A group of volunteers were sought at Cornerstone to spend a couple of hours packing food packages for the children of Haiti and other impoverished countries. My son saw this as an 'EVENT' of great magnitude and, as there was an opportunity for learning and for performing charitable service, I got us both signed up. He was happy, enthusiastic, and diligent throughout the session. When we got home he talked Mom's ear off attempting to explain his experiences. He hoped to do this again someday - we are keeping our eyes open for whenever that opportunity surfaces.

This past weekend while attending services at Cornerstone, he learned about the church's Mission of the Month. The organization, Nothing But Nets, is a cooperative effort between the United Nations Foundation, the National Basketball Association, Sports Illustrated magazine, and the United Methodist Church. The charity raises money to buy mosquito netting to provide to families in Africa who must sleep at night among the threat of malaria mosquitoes.

I watched the promotional video twice (since, as musicians, we participated in both scheduled worship services), looking for what might possibly have attracted my son's attention. Since the NBA is involved in the project, the 'nets' could have been symbolized by those used in basketball hoops. Only they weren't. As we're not full members of the congregation, I'm often unprepared to donate on the spot - but whenever there's a website involved, my son will lock that address in his brain until he can get to his computer to check it out.

He decided he wanted to send in a donation from the allowance he has been earning. Ordinarily the 'savings' build up until he has enough to buy the next video game he wants. Understanding that this would mean holding off a potential purchase until his next 'pay day' did not seem to phase him in the least. So today he and I took his investment and paid a donation to the charity.

In all of this, my son is being motivated to do something to help someone else. He's doing this because of his sporadic attendance (due to me) at Cornerstone, a place that seems to go out of its way to welcome people and minister to them, in spite of a massive debt due to a building expansion and at a crossroads due to the change in pastors last summer.

Up to now I have seen my participation at Cornerstone part of the wandering minstrel that I am. A missionary, as it were; or quite possibly a spiritual 'mugwump' - which, if you recall American history, is someone whose 'mug' sits on one side of a fence while his 'wump' sits on the other. My son's willingness to be even a small part of things has had me apologizing - more than once - that I am not necessarily a member of the congregation.

Three weeks ago, I was tapped by a colleague at the church, asking if I would consider volunteering my time to call other families in the congregation to do no more than raise awareness in prayer over the three-year capital pledge drive campaign that is beginning to move forward. I had to think about this seriously, and I prayed over it myself before deciding accept the invitation. In all of this I've come to understand that where it matters, my son and I are considered part of the family.

I don't have to wonder if God isn't at work in my life. All I have to do is witness the generosity of someone whom 99% of people I know could probably not consider at all. This is the work of love.

It's Not Nice to Fool (Around With) Mother Nature

2011-02-02T16:52:00.000-06:00

February 2, 2011
(Groundhog Day)

It's been quite some time - too long - since I blogged anything. I have a few reasons for my lack of presence:

I've been working on a software implementation team. The project has taken much more time than anyone thought it would. It's in the semi-final stage of testing now. I have become the functional/navigational 'go-to' guy, and people at upper levels of management are taking notice.
When I'm not working, I've had work around the house to keep me busy. While that in itself doesn't take a lot of time, I also tend to want to be present and available to attend to my wife and son. They come first.
When I wrote at length a couple of years back, I had a lot to say. I seem to have run out of ideas. Some of the best times unfortunately come at times when I am least able to translate to sentences and paragraphs.
To be honest, a certain degree of laziness has also crept in over time. I have nobody to blame.

Having said this, though, I remind myself that this medium is here, and I've gone back several times to remind myself of where I've been, which makes up a lot of who I am.

And, there's nothing better to disrupt the routine than when God invites Mother Nature to remind us Earth-dwellers just who is still in charge.

As I write, I am on the backside of what people are calling "The Great Storm", "Snowmageddon", "Snowpocalypse", and "The (Groundhog Day) Blizzard of 2011." I noted this morning on my Facebook page that I had been invited to the "Blizzard" event, and I had even RSVP'd; but I later posted a status update, apologizing that I could not attend due to the 4-1/2 foot snow drifts keeping me inside my third-floor apartment.

My wife really dislikes all the hype that occurs "every time grey clouds come within 40 miles of Lake Michigan," as she puts it. Winter storm forecasting generally sends out warnings and advisories over a much larger area because, unlike rain, snow tends to hang around for awhile; and a shift of as little as 50 miles in the storm center's path determines whether you get snow, rain, or something in between that is even less liked than the snow.

What I sense is that all the pre-storm hype is geared to remind the more sheep-like among people is that Nature - and Nature's God - are to be feared, as we can never really fully control the elements. (At least not with any immediate consequence. We're only beginning to understand how we interact as part of Nature plays a significant role in how Nature behaves, but the impact isn't generally known for long periods of time.) That we have to be brought into line through fear perpetrated by "Snowstradamus" (a moniker I overheard the other day referring to some meteorologists) is a sign of how far away we still remain from the kind of relationship God wants with us. Of course, 60 mile-an-hour winds and driving snow moving horizontally outside your window will do that without a forecast. Notwithstanding, it is respect for Nature and our part in it is what God wants.

It's enough to have awakened in me the desire to put thoughts into words once more. Right or wrong, good or ...well, not as good, I find myself longing to tackle more than the trivialities of the calendar.

And that time I went and said goodbye
Now I'm back and not ashamed to cry
Oooh, baby, here I am
Signed, sealed, delivered, I'm yours

If you're reading this, I hope you'll stick around.

We Need A Little Christmas Now

2010-12-06T11:15:00.000-06:00

The Feast of Saint Nicholas,
4th Century Bishop

Today's observance is one that should not be overlooked.

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.

The passage of time may have obscured his life into legend, but the most important thing to remember today is that Nicholas, the archetype of our present-day iconic Santa Claus, was indeed a real person who walked the earth.

Wilson's Almanac is an online reference source I use when it comes to the lesser observed celebrations of the Season of Light. Here we find the following - and I've included just a few 'tip of the iceberg' tidbits:

Nicholas (Nikolaus) (c. 270 - 345/352) became a Bishop of Myra in Lycia, Asia Minor (modern day Turkey) when quite young. Among Christians, he is known as the 'Wonderworker'. Several acts of kindness and miracles are attributed to him. He has always been a very popular saint: in England at least 372 churches are named in his honor.

Nicholas's early activities as a priest are said to have occurred during the reign of co-ruling Roman Emperors Diocletian (reigned 284 - 305) and Maximian (reigned 286 - 305) from which comes the estimation of his age. Diocletian issued an edict in 303 authorizing the systematic persecution of Christians across the Empire. Following the abdication of the two Emperors on May 1, 305, the policies of their successors towards Christians were different. In the Western part of the Empire, Constantius Chlorus (reigned 305 - 306) put an end to the systematic persecution upon receiving the throne. In the Eastern part, Galerius (reigned 305 - 311) continued the persecution until 311 when, from his deathbed, he issued a general edict of toleration. The persecution of 303 - 311 is considered to be the longest in the history of the Empire. Nicholas survived this period, although his activities at the time are uncertain. He was present at the Council of Nicaea (325) and it is said that he punched Arius on the jaw. (Arius was the promulgator of the Arian heresy, which was condemned during that council session.)

Enemy of the old religion

The destruction of several pagan temples is also attributed to him, among them one temple of Artemis (also known as Diana). Arguing that the celebration of Diana's birth is on December 6, some authors have speculated that this date was deliberately chosen for Nicholas's feast day to overshadow or replace the pagan celebrations.

Nicholas is also known for coming to the defence of the falsely accused, often preventing them from being executed, and for his prayers on behalf of sailors and other travellers. The popular worshipping of Nicholas as a saint seems to have started relatively early considering that Justinian I, Emperor of the Eastern Roman Empire (reigned 527 - 565) is reported to have built a temple in Nicholas's honour in Constantinople, the Roman capital of the time.

But early in the reign of Alexius I Comnenus (reigned 1081 - 1118), Myra was overtaken by Islamic invaders. Taking advantage of the confusion, sailors from Bari, Italy, seized the remains of the saint over the objections of the Orthodox monks then caring for them. Returning to Bari they brought the remains with them on May 9, 1087. Some observers reported seeing myrrh exude from these relics, and 30 people were cured of diseases; ever since, the tomb of Nicholas has been a favorite of pilgrims.

He compelled thieves to restore some stolen goods to their owners, so became patron of thieves. Saint Nikolaus or St Nicholas is celebrated in several Western European countries. His reputation for gift giving comes partly from a story of three young women who were too poor to afford a dowry for their marriages:

Legend of the 3 dowries

A nobleman of Patara had three daughters; he was so poor he couldn't provide their dowries and they were going to have to go into prostitution. St Nick had inherited a large fortune, and he resolved to help, but secretly. As he went to their house at night, wondering how to do this, the moon came out from behind a cloud and lit up a window through which he threw a bag of gold, which fell at the girls' father's feet. This enable him to provide a dowry for his first daughter. The next night, St Nicholas threw another in, and thus procured a dowry for the second daughter. The father wanted to see the benefactor, so on the third night he saw St Nick coming and grabbed his cloak, saying "O Nicholas! servant of God! why seek to hide thyself?" The saint made him promise not to tell any one. From this came the custom on St Nicholas's eve of putting out presents for children. (This may also be where the custom of gifts placed in stockings originated.) For his helping the poor, St Nicholas is the patron saint of pawnbrokers; the three gold balls traditionally hung outside a pawnshop are symbolic of the three sacks of gold.

Legend of the evil innkeeper (The Pickled Boys)

A gentleman of Asia sent his two sons to Athens for education, and had them stop to see the holy Archbishop of Myra, St Nick. They stayed in an inn where the keeper chopped them up and salted them down like bacon. St Nick was warned of this in a terrible vision and went and charged the landlord with the crime. He confessed with contrition and asked the forgiveness of Heaven. Nick did this and also restored the boys. In art, St Nick is often shown next to a tub with naked children in it.

The leap between sainthood and legend, between Sinterklaas (as St. Nicholas is called in The Netherlands) and Santa Claus, should be celebrated as part of our accumulated tradition. It takes nothing away from the observance of Christmas, especially when we realize that Nicholas was indeed a real person, and he embodied that which we are called to do. Sadly, it is often those who believe it is a duty to "keep Christ in Christmas" who lament that Santa Claus is part of the problem that we deal with this time of year. On the contrary - the beloved Jolly One in the Red Suit belongs here as he's based on a real-life person who did many things to be light and peace, and comfort and joy to people who really needed it. Doesn't that reflect what Jesus did? Isn't that what we who profess to be Christian are supposed to do? (Okay, maybe taking out those who spread untruths and tearing down pagan temples is a bit beyond where we are. On the other hand, how strong a stand do we take when injustice is blatantly promoted by the high and mighty?)

Just make sure you check your shoes and socks before putting them on later today or tomorrow. There could be a surprise there for you.

People of Zion, Art Thou Fed Up With Gurnee Mills?

2010-12-05T16:58:00.000-06:00

The Second Sunday of Advent

The Word:
Isaiah 30:15, 19-22 (Populos Sion)
Matthew 3:1-12 (The ministry of John the Baptist)

A song, for openers:

Scavengers and sycophants and flatterers and fools
Pharisees and parasites and hypocrites and ghouls
Calculating swindlers, prevaricating frauds
Perpetrating evil as they roam the earth in hordes
Feeding on their fellow men, reaping rich rewards
Contaminating everything they see
Corrupting honest me like me

Humbug! Poppycock! Balderdash! Bah!

I hate people! I hate people!
People are despicable creatures
Loathsome inexplicable creatures
Good-for-nothing kickable creatures
I hate people! I abhor them!
When I see the indolent classes
Sitting on their indolent asses
Gulping ale from indolent glasses
I hate people! I detest them! I deplore them!

Fools who have no money spend it
Get in debt then try to end it
Beg me on their knees befriend them
Knowing I have cash to lend them
Soft-hearted me! Hard-working me!
Clean-living, thrifty and kind as can be!
Situations like this are of interest to me

I hate people! I loathe people!
I despise and abominate people!
Life is full of cretinous wretches
Earning what their sweatiness fetches
Empty minds whose pettiness stretches
Further than I can see
Little wonder I hate people
And I don't care if they hate me!

If you recognize this lament as something Ebenezer Scrooge might have proclaimed, you're right - it's a lyric written by Leslie Bricusse which appeared in the 1969 film and musical adaptation of Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol.

Now just how does this tie in with today's passage from Isaiah, and the overall theme? Plenty.

In last week's post, inspired in part by my dear, loving wife, she referred to today as "people make me sick" Sunday. The holiday shopping season, now beginning its seventh week, and its second in high gear, is enough to make you wonder about our inner nature. For example, somewhere in these United States a Wal-Mart store advertised ham for sale, touting it as being "Great for Hanukkah." (I kid you not, the photo's cropped up on some of my friends' Facebook pages.) And even though Black Friday and Cyber Monday are behind us, there are still nineteen shopping days left with deals to be found and crowds with which to be dealt.

The Church really means for us to use this time to center our focus on the significance behind all the frenetic planning, but we are easily distracted. We need little help from the influence of retail outlets and their advertising; we're very easily distracted in the first place. I know this; boy how I do know this! Isaiah well understood this point as well, as he receives his words from God to the people of Zion (who live in Jerusalem):

For thus said the Lord GOD, the Holy One of Israel: By waiting and by calm you shall be saved, in quiet and in trust your strength lies. But this you did not wish. "No," you said, "Upon horses we will flee." --Very well, flee! "Upon swift steeds we will ride." --Not so swift as your pursuers.

Yet the LORD is waiting to show you favor, and he rises to pity you; For the LORD is a God of justice: blessed are all who wait for him!

O people of Zion, who dwell in Jerusalem, no more will you weep; He will be gracious to you when you cry out, as soon as he hears he will answer you. The Lord will give you the bread you need and the water for which you thirst. No longer will your Teacher hide himself, but with your own eyes you shall see your Teacher, while from behind, a voice shall sound in your ears: "This is the way; walk in it," when you would turn to the right or to the left. And you shall consider unclean your silver-plated idols and your gold-covered images; You shall throw them away like filthy rags to which you say, "Begone!" (Isaiah 30:15-16, 18-22)

I'm not suggesting we do away with our holiday preparations. After all, the shopkeepers invest (or is it gamble?) heavily on decking their halls, as it were. But the focus is meant to be on the end, the goal; not the mechanics of the race to get there.

John the Baptist had his hands full where that was concerned.

John was the first prophet in roughly 400 years (although the Maccabean period roughly halfway through that drought would indicate that some were indeed listening to God in that time). John was nothing if not austere; living off the land of the desert, dressing in woven camel's hair, and surviving on a diet of locusts and wild honey. Not surprisingly, his zeal (of all the prophets of the Bible, John showed no sign of reluctance to bear the message) sustained him where his diet might not - I am quite certain John didn't have a weight problem.

This also meant John did not suffer fools gladly. Perhaps his message had an even greater sense of urgency. He was not afraid to tell it like it was. And this was much more the message than the present "Keep Christ in CHRISTmas" movement:

"Produce good fruit as evidence of your repentance. And do not presume to say to yourselves, 'We have Abraham as our father.' For I tell you, God can raise up children to Abraham from these stones" (Matthew 3:8-9).

Many have fallen into the trap of believing that, as Christians, that the Christmas event is an exclusive property. It is not, was never meant to be so, and will never be so. Perhaps that's why so many traditions have blended together over the course of human history. This time is not meant exclusively for one group or another, but for the good of all. Lest our preparations lead us into the trap that shopping is but one more task to be endured, we have missed the point. We have missed out on what the Season of Advent and the Season of Light is about; to be light and peace, comfort and joy.

Today I offered this prayer:
God our Father, in your infinite love deliver us from the distractions that plague us, and grant us the peace and security which you alone can give. Protect us from all needless worry and anxiety, as we wait in joyful hope for the coming in glory of Emmanuel, your presence among us; for even now you are indeed among us, waiting for us even as we await your coming. Remain with us always...Amen.

What's This I Hear About Being Another Year Older?

2010-12-04T07:30:00.000-06:00

Not to strut my stuff like a proud peacock (I've been known to do that), but today's my birthday! Let's hear it for me!

(smattering of hand-clapping among the chirping of crickets...Hey, I'll take that considering it's December, 28 degrees and snowing outside.)

Those among the readers who like me have their birthday fall in this Season of Light have yet another reason to celebrate. The older I get, and the more open I am to God's presence in and around me, the more I like this. Yet thanks be to God that I am still here and able to share what meager thoughts are in my head!

Some thoughts as I peruse the early round of well wishes on my Facebook page:

It's good to be alive and well, and not showing that much more the worse for wear at my age.

It's a blessing to have the ability to love who you are and what you do, and to be helpful to others.

It's a blessing, so the prayer goes, to stand in the presence of God (Who is everywhere) and praise Him in thanksgiving for the blessings above.

It's a challenge to look at the future. It's challenging to look around and know that my grandparents and many people I've known no longer walk in this world, and that my parents, my mother-in-law, and many of my contemporaries are struggling with concerns that might remain with them for the rest of their earthly life. I too struggle with the consequences of decisions I've made when I was younger and more full of myself than I was with others and with God. But I know that this too is a blessing. As time draws me inevitably closer to my appointment with the hereafter, I take the position that God is directing me toward those places and people I need to be among.

I give you, the reader, a gift of hope today. It comes in the form of an 18th Century hymn; and the story behind its composition could be likened to a setting in that time and place of It's A Wonderful Life.

The British hymnist William Cowper (1731-1800) wrote a total of 67 works over the course of his life. He was a contemporary of John Newton, the writer of Amazing Grace, penned after a stunning personal conversion experience. Cowper, whose father was chaplain to King George II, went through the motions of becoming an attorney, but never practiced law. He often struggled with depression and doubt. One night he decided to commit suicide by drowning himself. He called a cab and told the driver to take him to the Thames River. However, thick fog came down and prevented them from finding the river (another version of the story has the driver getting lost deliberately). After driving around lost for a while, the cabbie finally stopped and let Cowper out. To Cowper’s surprise, he found himself on his own doorstep: God had sent the fog to keep him from killing himself. Even in our blackest moments, God watches over us. This experience is reflected in the following text, reportedly the last hymn Cowper wrote.

God moves in a mysterious way
His wonders to perform;
He plants His footsteps in the sea
And rides upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never failing skill
He treasures up His bright designs
And works His sovereign will.

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust Him for His grace;
Behind a frowning providence
He hides a smiling face.

His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flower.

Blind unbelief is sure to err
And scan His work in vain;
God is His own interpreter,
And He will make it plain.

O fearful saint(s), fresh courage take;
The clouds you so much dread
Are big with mercy and shall break
In blessings on your head.

AMEN!!!

You Light Up My Life

2010-12-04T04:24:00.000-06:00

(Hanukkah, not the Debby Boone song)

I've had quite the busy work week, so this post is a tad late. However, the Jewish Festival of Lights is eight days long, so...

To set the record straight, there is a biblical reference to this major event in my Season of Light. The two Books of Maccabees (apocryphal) introduce this festival, first observed "on the 25th day of the ninth month; that is, the month of Chislev, in the year 148" (1 Macc 4:52, which recalculates in our present calendar system to 165 BCE).

The original festival was to rededicate the (Second) Temple in Jerusalem, which had been desecrated by the forces of the King of Syria Antiochus IV Epiphanes and commemorates the "miracle of the container of oil". According to the Talmud, at the re-dedication following the victory of the Maccabees over the Seleucid Empire, there was only enough consecrated olive oil to fuel the eternal flame in the Temple for one day. Miraculously, the oil burned for eight days, which was the length of time it took to press, prepare and consecrate fresh olive oil.

Perhaps the most central figure in the Books of Maccabees is Judas Maccabeus, who is neither king nor priest (he is the son of the high priest Mattathias), but a military leader, and likely the last heroic figure of the Old Testament. Indeed, this is the last historical event we can place with any accuracy before the events surrounding the nativity of Jesus.

The observance of this festival, however, is not the only thing by which Judas Maccabeus should be remembered. As the son of a high priest, he was gifted with a keen sense of knowing how to fight for a righteous cause, and for remembering the fallen in the aftermath of war (2 Macc 12:39-46). Specifically:

Turning to supplication, they prayed that the sinful deed might be fully blotted out. The noble Judas warned the soldiers to keep themselves free from sin, for they had seen with their own eyes what had happened because of the sin of those who had fallen. He then took up a collection among all his soldiers, amounting to two thousand silver drachmas, which he sent to Jerusalem to provide for an expiatory sacrifice. In doing this he acted in a very excellent and noble way, inasmuch as he had the resurrection of the dead in view; for if he were not expecting the fallen to rise again, it would have been useless and foolish to pray for them in death. But if he did this with a view to the splendid reward that awaits those who had gone to rest in godliness, it was a holy and pious thought. Thus he made atonement for the dead that they might be freed from this sin. (2 Maccabees 12:42-46, New American Bible)

This is significant because it represents a paradigm shift in theology. The resurrection of the dead had not been mentioned so directly before now. It was hinted at in the writings of the prophets, but this indicates that those writings had gained acceptance. This has in turn been handed down to posterity, with the hope that goes with it.

The candles of the Hanukkah menorah represent those eight days when the light of the Temple sanctuary was in peril of being extinguished, and the miracle that it didn't. It also prefigures the light of Christ, the Morning Star which will never set. And they are also lights of hope; hope for a deeper sense of compassion, joy, and peace. May this light be aflame in our hearts and never be extinguished.

A Funny Thing Happened While Waiting for Christmas

2010-11-28T18:23:00.000-06:00

The First Sunday of Advent

The Word:
Isaiah 2:1-5 (O house of Jacob, come - let us walk in the light of the Lord!)
Psalm 122 (Let us go rejoicing to the house of the Lord)
Romans 13:11-14 ("It is the hour now for you to awake from sleep")
Matthew 24:37-44 ("Stay awake! For you do not know on which day your Lord will come")

It should be no surprise to anyone that human beings are the most impatient of all creatures God put on this earth. Further, it should not surprise anyone that American humans - and I'm not speaking of the original natives - are more impatient than other humans. Let's face it: Americans invented fast food, and online banking and shopping. Now you can handle all your financial and business transactions from your computer at home while in your pajamas, and then get dressed and grab a burrito at Taco Bell.

It's my understanding that in some locales one can attend a drive-thru wake. Here you don't get out of your car; you pass by the deceased's casket displayed in a bay window to pay your respects, and then head off to your next activity, be it the gym or the pub or your kid's basketball game.

Advent is a big part of what I call the "Season of Light," which starts with the fourth Thursday in November (US Thanksgiving Day) and ends with the Twelfth Day of Christmas, January 6 - the traditional date reserved for the solemn feast of the Epiphany.

Now here's a story in itself. Even Holy Mother Church has not been totally immune from the madness of impatience. Nearly fifty years ago, the Second Vatican Council stood Catholicism on its ear by making a number of rather profound changes, most if not all of them important and necessary. But in the process of doing so, she may have inadvertently thrown out the Holy Babe with the Holy Bath Water.

Case in point: Epiphany moved was moved in the US from January 6 to the first Sunday following January 1. Why? At one time it was considered a day of obligation - and still is to most of the rest of the world's Catholics. But not here. We're just too busy. Our jobs are too demanding; our bosses won't let us take time off to attend Mass. Oh, and not to cast aspersions on my non-Catholic but still devout Christian friends, they don't observe any of the Catholic obligatory feasts; simply because that's one thing that their hierarchies decided dogmatically that they don't have to do.

Second case in point: The religious education program (which Catholics over age 50 will probably know as the Baltimore Catechism No.1) vanished into some sort of vacuum, leaving a huge void in its wake. Now the reasons at the time for abandoning the BC1 seemed sound; people just seemed too savvy and inquisitive to be handed the pat answers contained therein. Q: Where is God? A: God is everywhere. Kid in class: If God is everywhere, why doesn't he see all the bad stuff going on and do something about it? (And that's a nicer question than most kids might ask.)

The Christian Church is very, very rich in tradition. Unfortunately, much of that tradition has been swept aside in favor of minimalism; minimalism caused by impatience - ultimately, a failure to wait upon God in faith. My wife is a treasure trove of understanding this accumulated tradition, or at least knowing where to look it up. She knows more about the depth of Christian tradition than I - and she does not subscribe to the practices of Christian worship. She will keep my sense of duty in relative loving balance by reminding me that in another time, this first Sunday in Advent went by other names. It's been called "Stir-It-Up" Sunday in the British Isles, as on this day the batters for such holiday treats as plum pudding were prepared (and then allowed to ferment before the final preparation and baking).

It turns out that each of the four Sundays of Advent had a Latin name, each derived from the text of the Introit prayer of the Mass for that day. Here's the rundown, along with my wife's humorous commentary, lest I become too holy:

1st Sunday of Advent: Ad te levabi animam meam (Psalm 25:1 - To you I lift my soul), which she calls 'Ad Te Levi' and states that today you relax in your jeans after surviving the Target 2-Day Sale and read the ads from the Sunday paper
2nd Sunday of Advent: Populos Sion (Isaiah 30:19 - People of Zion, the Lord will come), which is locally translated as 'people make me sick' and seems rather appropriate given some shopping behavior at about this point in the season
3rd Sunday of Advent: Gaudete (Philippians 4:4 - Rejoice in the Lord always); this is the only one that's easily remembered because the priests still wear gaudy or God awful pink vestments - priests will quickly reply that the color is rose, not pink
4th Sunday of Advent: Rorate coeli (Isaiah 45:8 - Let the heavens rain down the Just One), loosely translated as 'someone hand me some Rolaids, and deliver me from this madness'

A vast library of music existed for these ancient Latin texts, and their use was more or less mandatory until the Second Vatican Council; after that, although the English translations of these verses still appear, they've been generally discarded for a (hopefully) well known hymn; again, in the name of simplicity or convenience; whatever, so long as we don't have to spend extra time preparing or even think about preparing.

A large subset of my so-called "Season of Light" contains the "Season of Wait." Waiting for Christmas. Waiting for it all to pass so life can resume to relative normal productivity. But most importantly, waiting for the prophesied and promised Second Coming of Christ - an event of which God has not given a timeframe to anyone; not to any of the Church Fathers; not even to Jesus as he walked upon the earth in 1st Century Palestine. However, when it is recalled and observed, the vast accumulation of tradition associated with this time of year does a great deal to take the burden out of the wait - and can even make the waiting fun, as you want to linger in some of them for awhile. Over the course of the last few years I've written a few things down about many of them; I'm going back to read them, and I'll try my best to point to them so others can read them for perhaps the first time. Why? Because in these days when daylight can seem not to exist, and while our bodies may start complaining of the need to sleep, there's too much to do to even consider it, we need to take up the slack, as it were, and 'be' light and comfort to others. That's the significance of the candles, the inviting light displays, the exchanging of gifts, the caroling, the foodapalooza gatherings laden with treats you should only eat once a year.

Please consider at least one of the above this year. Immerse yourself in it. God has never made it easier to enjoy the wait.

Do You Plan to Indulge in "Bird From India?" and Other Musings for Which I Am Thankful

2010-11-24T09:44:00.000-06:00

Thanksgiving Day (US) 2010
The Beginning of The Season of Light

The Word:
Sirach 50:22-24 (Now thank we all our God):
And now, bless the God of all,
who has done wondrous things on earth;
Who fosters people’s growth from their mother’s womb,
and fashions them according to his will!
May he grant you joy of heart
and may peace abide among you;
May his goodness toward us endure in Israel
to deliver us in our days.

Psalm 136 (Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; his love endures forever)
1 Corinthians 1:3-9 (I give thanks always to God for you)
Luke 17:11-19 ("Ten lepers were cured - where are the other nine? Was there no one to return and give thanks to God except this Samaritan?")

I present a hodgepodge or potpourri of past and present thoughts as we enter the six week period I call The Season of Light (if for no other reason but to hold my sanity in place).

Evidence holds that what most of us look to as the first idyllic celebration of thanksgiving by the Pilgrims at Plymouth in Massachusetts in 1621 was a three-day foodapalooza with 100 last-minute guests (the natives) prepared by five women. Yes, I'm oversimplifying. Those five women had no time to complain, which may be one reason why this festival has such endearing attachment to family and home, two things of which we should be thankful by default.

But back to those five ladies - I'm thankful for their culinary expertise, such as it was nearly four centuries ago. Their endurance eventually won out over Yankee vs. Southern political quirkiness - and due to the persistence of a sixth fine lady, Sarah Hale.

Now about that food fest - it came to my attention this morning that the average intake for the "traditional" Thanksgiving dinner is somewhere in the neighborhood of 4500 calories. Notwithstanding, my dear wife has signed on to an 80/20 plan when it comes to holiday dinners; meaning stay on a balanced eating plan 80% of the time, and simply enjoy the spread the other 20%, which usually falls around holidays and other significant personal events. (I'm not a nutritionist or a doctor, and I don't pretend to be either, so understand that certain conditions can rule out the 80/20 concept.)

I had a chance meeting with my sister while doing grocery shopping last weekend. She's one of the people for whom I've come to be very thankful, as she takes care of my Mom every day, most times twice a day, at the nursing facility Mom has come to call home in the progression of Parkinson's Disease. I found out that there's nothing special on the menu for the residents this Thanksgiving; so my other sister will pop in and bring her and my Dad more traditional fare.

By the way, I presume you know that the turkey is a native American bird. Benjamin Franklin attempted to promote it as a national symbol at the founding of our nation. But the reason it came to be called turkey had nothing to do with anyone living on the continent, natives or colonists. It has more to do with how the bird made its way across the Atlantic, as National Public Radio reported some years ago.

In the 1500s when the American bird first arrived in Great Britain, it was shipped in by merchants in the East, mostly from Constantinople (who'd brought the bird over from America). Since it wholesaled out of Turkey, the British referred to it as a "Turkey coq." In fact, the British weren't particularly precise about products arriving from the East. Persian carpets were called "Turkey rugs." Indian flour was called "Turkey flour." Hungarian carpet bags were called "Turkey bags." If a product came to London from the far side of the Danube, Londoners labeled it "Turkey" and that's what happened to the American bird. Thus, an American bird got the name Turkey-coq, which was then shortened to "Turkey."

The point is for 500 years now, this proud (if not exactly brilliant) American animal has never had a truly American name. And just to keep this ball rolling…all over the world, people now can eat American Turkeys, but they don't call them Turkeys.
Across Arabia, they call our bird "diiq Hindi," or the "Indian rooster."
In Russia, it's "Indjushka," bird of India.
In Poland, "Inyczka"— again "bird from India."
And what, we wondered, do the Turks call our turkey?
Well, they call it "Hindi," again, short for India.

While on that shopping trip over last weekend, and in the presence of my sister, my dear wife suffered her knee giving out on her, and she took a fall behind my car. She's developed arthritis particularly in that area stemming from injuries long ago, before I knew her. She's recovering as expected, but can't stay on her feet long or unsupported; which means this year my son and I will do a lot of the cooking. My wife will direct us both, and will do some prep work from the table where she can remain seated; so it will be a team effort. I am deeply thankful that my wife didn't get hurt to the point where she would require hospitalization or surgery. I'm also thankful that my son has been able to step in and assist her. He's shown how much of a man he will be.

Yes, I'm thankful - very thankful - that my parents are still living, and managing the challenges set before them at this stage in life. I'm very thankful that my wife does what she does and is who she is, and that we morph and adapt and do whatever we can to make the best out of the challenges before us. I'm thankful that my son willingly accepted the call to be giving in need. He understands more than he lets on at times, and it makes all the difference in the world. I love them all.

Somehow, saying "thank you" in and of itself doesn't begin to cover how much you appreciate the love and connections you have with others. Sometimes you have to be brought to a very low place in life to fully appreciate the strengths you have. The rejuvenated spirit of that tenth leper made a big splash, and we don't even know his name! Still, I believe that sense of total gratitude was somewhere in Abraham Lincoln's thoughts when in 1863, as a war-weary nation was finding itself, he gave this address to the American people:

The year that is drawing towards its close, has been filled with the blessings of fruitful fields and healthful skies. To these bounties, which are so constantly enjoyed that we are prone to forget the source from which they come, others have been added, which are of so extraordinary a nature, that they cannot fail to penetrate and soften even the heart which is habitually insensible to the ever watchful providence of Almighty God. In the midst of a civil war of unequalled magnitude and severity, which has sometimes seemed to foreign States to invite and to provoke their aggression, peace has been preserved with all nations, order has been maintained, the laws have been respected and obeyed, and harmony has prevailed everywhere except in the theatre of military conflict; while that theatre has been greatly contracted by the advancing armies and navies of the Union. Needful diversions of wealth and of strength from the fields of peaceful industry to the national defence, have not arrested the plough, the shuttle, or the ship; the axe had enlarged the borders of our settlements, and the mines, as well of iron and coal as of the precious metals, have yielded even more abundantly than heretofore. Population has steadily increased, notwithstanding the waste that has been made in the camp, the siege and the battle-field; and the country, rejoicing in the consciousness of augmented strength and vigor, is permitted to expect continuance of years, with large increase of freedom.

No human counsel hath devised nor hath any mortal hand worked out these great things. They are the gracious gifts of the Most High God, who, while dealing with us in anger for our sins, hath nevertheless remembered mercy.

It has seemed to me fit and proper that they should be solemnly, reverently and gratefully acknowledged as with one heart and voice by the whole American people. I do therefore invite my fellow citizens in every part of the United States, and also those who are at sea and those who are sojourning in foreign lands, to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November next, as a day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the Heavens. And I recommend to them that while offering up the ascriptions justly due to Him for such singular deliverances and blessings, they do also, with humble penitence for our national perverseness and disobedience, commend to his tender care all those who have become widows, orphans, mourners or sufferers in the lamentable civil strife in which we are unavoidably engaged, and fervently implore the interposition of the Almighty Hand to heal the wounds of the nation and to restore it as soon as may be consistent with the Divine purposes to the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquility and Union.

In testimony whereof, I have hereunto set my hand, and caused the seal of the United States to be affixed.

Done at the city of Washington, this third day of October, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-three, and of the independence of the United States the eighty-eighth."

--Proclamation of President Abraham Lincoln, 3 October 1863.

That, to me, is how the Season of Light should begin. It begins with understanding, even in the midst of whatever troubles we have, that there are people that share some degree of their life intermingled with our own. It should also serve to remind us that we should share something of ourselves with those in need; giving thanks by giving to others. In the overall scheme of the universe, there are many ways to do this. It is right that we offer thanks and praise, with hearts, and hands, and voices.

Finding Fault or Finding Faith?

2010-11-14T16:45:00.000-06:00

We as people love to blame someone or something for the inability to deal with the troubles we run into from the challenges we face.

Let's take a look at the political arena for just a moment. The Democratic Party went to great lengths to blame Dubya's administration for the massive debt, the near collapse of the worldwide economy, and the rush to war on two fronts - Iraq and Afghanistan - which to date has really resolved nothing besides removing Saddam Hussein from power. Yet when given the opportunity to make change, the current Democratic administration under President Obama has scored only slightly higher than impotent, as judged by the Republican Party gain in congressional seats from the recent election.

The Church is not immune from similar seeking of scapegoats, or things or people to blame. The 16th Century Reformation was a result of finding fault with Catholicism of the time, and abuses of the Church therein, most namely a degree of scandal among the celibate clergy, and the selling of indulgences - the thought of buying someone's way into heaven, even posthumously. In the wake of the more recent clergy scandal spread over the last half-century, the finger pointing began again. Then there's been the ongoing issue of women's ordination. And what does our Catholic hierarchy spend it's time debating? Revising the English translation of the Latin liturgical rites, to make that translation less of a transliteration. It doesn't seem like that should take an upper position on the totem pole, as it were.

But if you thought Catholicism was the only denomination among Christians with unresolved issues, you'd be very much wrong. Episcopalians are going through their own schism due to the elevation to their office of bishop an openly gay man. And now I read most recently of my Methodist friends' troubles: Concerned that their numbers are dropping way too fast, their recent national conference debated a 'Call To Action' plan, filled with their own sense of pork projects and goals to 'revitalize' that Branch of the Vine.

I think somewhere along the way, the priorities got messed up. These are all issues to be sure, but it's obvious they aren't going to be easily resolved. The reasons for this are two-fold; there are two issues that seem to have become lost along with the general direction all Christian denominations share and should be following.

The first question that comes to my mind is: Where is the Holy Spirit in all this? Do we call upon the Holy Spirit for discernment and direction? Do we even acknowledge the presence of the Holy Spirit working in the world and among us? Should we not call as one of the first part of our action plan a suitable period of silent reflection to listen to what God is saying about our issues, and whether or not they stand up in a divine sense?

The second question is asked by Jesus himself, through Luke the evangelist: When the Son of Man comes, will he find any faith on earth? (Lk 18:8) It would seem we have lost a great deal of our sense of faith, and while there would be great reason for it to be so, it is only that way because We the People of God have allowed it to be so. We have allowed the actions and positions of a relative few take center stage. And We the People always get what they bargain for when they don't participate fully in an informed process. (Our elections are the best examples of this confusing smokescreen created by even the best well-meaning individuals.)

Let us pray that we stay focused on the two main issues while working toward resolution on the others that man has created in the wake of trying to do it all himself.

What A Concept

2010-11-14T07:09:00.000-06:00

Daytime TV seems to have the answers to everything.

And when the subject matter isn't as shocking as it used to be, let's spice it up a bit by not only showcasing some new gimmick or product on the market - and proceed to give it away to everyone in the studio audience. Oh, and let's allow the first couple of hundred viewers at home to text something from their cell phones so they get in on the giveaways, too. Nice touch; keeps people watching.

First Oprah, then spreading to Ellen (DeGeneres) and even Dr. Oz - are all giving away stuff on a regular basis on their TV shows; and this isn't throwaway stuff, either. To start her most recent season (and her last on over-the-air TV), Oprah announced that she was taking everyone in the audience that day with her to Australia. Other big-ticket items have been cropping up as giveaways on the daytime shows, too.

So what if the concept spread to our churches?

How would you feel if on, let's say the First Sunday of Advent, the presiding minister announces that everyone in attendance at Mass or worship services has just been gifted with a new bedroom set? Or a car? Even the idea of a "Golden Ticket" randomly placed under one of the seats or in a bulletin? I solemnly assure you, attendance would go way up. And isn't that what our Church leadership wants - packed services every week?

(Now this is an offshoot of another subject about which I want to write more extensively, and I'm still formulating how to get it out there. Bear with me, it will get in the blog.)

The idea of attracting someone with a free gift is not new, you know. It's been around a long time...and it even has divine origins.

Think about it. God gifted the people of 1st Century Palestine with His very Presence. All those miracles Jesus performed, recorded in the Gospels - those up close who witnessed them were gifted with the grace to see that this was no one-time flash-in-the-pan experience. This was a paradigm. This was life-changing, with the potential for more life-changing, even to those who weren't present.

As people of God we are given the ability to shape our own destiny and influence that of those around us. We don't have to have amassed huge resources or sponsorships to do so - we've already been given them, and we don't have to go out of our way to share them. There are plenty of places to be better than we are right within our grasp.

God, let me be open to that concept today.

Name - Calling

2010-11-01T15:24:00.000-05:00

The Solemnity of All Saints

What's in a name?

I don't really know and I can't guess how many times that question gets asked. In our modern society where everyone is represented by several strings of disparate numbers (Social Security ID, telephone numbers, bank and other account numbers, addresses and postal zip codes), it seems that unless you're among the famous, you're in a place far removed from that TV pub 'where everybody knows your name.'

The point gets hammered home on this eve of the midterm elections here in the US of A. Those of us planning to vote have been hit with a barrage of campaign ads, flyers, and blind robo-dialed phone calls urging us to vote for this or that candidate. Most of us probably know the major candidates running for office in their respective place; those running for state governor, US senator or Congress. Some may even know people running for office at the county level. But there's usually a lot more on your average ballot. There are judges to be retained or replaced, and propositions or referendum to be accepted or turned down. A list of names and items, from which one must choose with little or no knowledge of the people or issues and what the ramifications are.

One of the significances of this time of year is brought to mind quickly at the hand of Nature and her God. The daylight grows shorter, the temps get colder, and many plants go dormant as winter approaches. Ultimately this leads to reminders that we're not getting any older. The Catholic observances of All Saints and All Souls Day, the celebration of the Dìas de los Muertos in Mexico, and the marking of Samhain in ancient Celtic culture all point to the bridge that, sooner or later, all of us will cross.

Yesterday, my Catholic congregation was read a list of the thirty-two parishoners who had died over the last twelve months. As the music minister most readily available on weekdays, I attended at least half of their funeral Masses. While I won't mention their names here, it did remind me again - much like my visit to the ancestral graves three weeks ago - that there's more to life than a string of numbers.

My given name (apart from my surname) and each of the myriad aspects of my life can be tied to the name of another who in some part did or had an impact on who I am and what I do today. These are, according to Catholic teaching, my patron saints. Their lives and their contributions are held as examples and inspiration to call upon as needed as each new day unveils its blessings and challenges.

My given names may have come from other ancestral family members, but they are also names of saints. One name is shared by both an apostle and a deacon. And my life aspects hold more:

Joseph - husband and father
Stephen and Lawrence - deacons
Cecilia and Gregory the Great - musician
Benedict - bereavement (he is the patron of a peaceful death)

Add the four from my given name, and there are ten whose lives all those centuries ago are at my disposal to guide and inspire me. These are toward the top of an much longer list of names; names of people I know or at least know about more than letters in a peculiar order on a page or screen.

Because the pace of life picks up speed in these last weeks of the calendar year, it is important to me to remember all of these influences now. I may be bringing them to mind with more frequency in the future.

Detail Oriented - Or, When You Can't See The Forest for the Trees

2010-10-17T18:55:00.001-05:00

I am going to speak my piece about something that shaped and molded a large part of my childhood. Hopefully I'll stay focused and balanced and on the subject. Yes, it's very relevant to today.

Bullying.

As a scrawny, skinny kid who was bused to a Catholic school, I was well acquainted with bullies and who they were. As kids in the school often referred to my home town as the one 'with the mental institution' (actually it separated the city from its southern neighbor), I got picked on and bullied from both sides. I was involved in my fair share of playground and street fights. I can't say I started any of them, I was just an easy target who took everything personally and (sometimes) literally. In all that time, I never considered the thought of removing the pain and suffering by taking my own life. Today, everything is different - to the point that forty-one states already have anti-bullying laws to one extent or another on their books; and at least three more as well as the federal government are considering them.

The game, as it were, has become more of an open thing. As a youth, I always had the relative sanctuary of my home as a 'bully-free' zone. I didn't get or make phone calls to friends until I was 14. What friends I had until then were generally a knock on the door of their house. There were no cell phones, no text messages, no Internet on which to blog or to announce personal updates (factual or fictitious) to anyone and everyone. Like any human advance, what started out as a useful and practical innovation limited to the privileged few was abused and taken to the extreme when put before the masses, especially when the masses happen to be children. Most kids do not understand the full extent of ramifications and consequences of misuse of anything; and it's impossible to assign a generic time stamp that essentially states that they do.

Now, just as it was then, if you didn't fit the uniform of the times, whatever it consists of, you are considered an outcast by your peers. But now, unlike then, there is generally no more sanctuary.

If you're openly anything - be it geeky, devout in your religious beliefs, wear your hair too long or too short, you might as well wear a target on your person. Bullies will find you. They will not leave you alone. They will accost you verbally. They will inundate you with text messages. They will converse amongst themselves about you on social networking websites.

It has been said that some of this is just the way kids sort out their pecking order and test newcomers to the fold, and that it generally means no harm. And I might have agreed back in my childhood, if I'd had the experience of an adult's mind in my childhood body. But it's simply not true anymore. Teachers who were once able to instill the fear of retribution into 'problem' students can't do that now. Parents are often eager to take matters before the courts - because whoever has the power ultimately welcomes someone into their midst who willfully abuses it.

Between the pressures of fitting in and the pressure to perform well academically and the pressures of looming decisions over college and career choices, there is also the mass-marketing toward children and adolescents. What a kid has today is outdated the following week when the next 'new' thing comes along. Add on top of this the physical changes the body is going through at the same time. As they pass through these years, there's so much change going on, that kids have enough to do just to figure out who they are, let alone what they're going to do for (most likely) the rest of their adult lives.

The latest of these concerns - at least the one that seems to draw so much media attention - is sexual orientation. So many teens are 'coming out' as openly gay. It is not mine to judge whether this is a lifestyle choice or a predestined genetic condition. It is uncertain whether those who claim to be gay are doing so to get on some kind of social or antisocial bandwagon. Whatever the real truth is, the fact remains that this has become the latest vehicle for bullying teens to hijack.

At least six recent teen suicides have been of young men who had stated they were openly gay. It is not known if their attackers among their peers are of fundamentalist or other conservative Christian denominations. It would not be out of line to suggest this to be a cause. Regardless, whoever laid the burdens upon the victims most likely do not understand the repercussions or consequences of what happens when someone takes something too far.

An Internet movement is urging students and supporters to wear purple this Wednesday to honor the lives of the six boys who took their own lives as they succumbed to the pressures around their young lives. I intend to wear purple that day - not just for these six, but for all those who have lost their lives in a place where this kind of thing should never have a chance to happen. I will do it for the victims at Columbine High School and other places like it where innocent lives were taken. I will do it for those who have lost the understanding of innocence, both personal and as a virtue, at the hands of another student. I will do it because I could have been one of them.

But know this - laws meant to get down to the nitty gritty, as it were, generally never do. If we're still looking for answers as to how malcontent gets a foothold in the world, we've never had to look all that far. That is indeed the sad truth, one that no amount of legislation will change. To live and love in the ideal manner expressed in religious ideologies demands that intimidation, threats, and bullying cease to exist. No church or religious ideology has been able to stop it because all have used it to some degree over the course of history.

Perhaps it is because, in our zeal, we fail to see the forest....for the Tree.
Lord, help us all.

He Who Sings Prays Twice; But Pray for the Dead and the Dead Will Pray For You

2010-10-10T14:37:00.001-05:00

Every once in a while, my dear wife lampoons me modestly with a truthful barb. She sometimes refers to me as a 'bardic whore.' And I have to agree. Sometimes I have had the urge to print 'Have Voice, Will Travel' on business cards I keep handy to pass out when it looks like I could become a potential soloist, especially for liturgical functions. I blend in well with the surroundings, and I am not the main guest of honor. After years of doing so, the job or ministry (take your pick) suits me.

The line "he who sings, prays twice" is attributed to (Saint) Augustine of Hippo, one of the ancient Church fathers. He was the living example of Luke's 'prodigal' or wayward son, but ultimately had a conversion experience and became the writer of his time. Augie was apparently used to the idea of music in liturgy, even if it moved in and out of favor over the course of Church history.

But I digress. Over the years, thanks to the friendship and collaboration with other good church musicians, I have roots, as it were, in several places. Perhaps the single person most responsible for spreading the seed that established those roots is my friend Mike.

I have not given Mike enough credit; neither for the extent of his musical accomplishments, nor the pain and endurance that comes with the territory. To that I will write here that in my mind he is one of the top five greatest people I will probably know and work with in my lifetime. Because of that, I would do just about anything for him. He's been very considerate of my own situation and doesn't ask as much as he might have otherwise.

Mike and I share one ideal. As Christians, and especially as Christian musicians, we are all brothers and sisters in Jesus. Denominational boundaries are occasionally discussed, and we recognize that there are differences, but we accept them rather than tear down each other in futile quests to determine whose spiritual path is better.

As a musician, Mike has given several recitals over the years to showcase his own talents. Still, he recognizes that there is more than that to showcase. For the last year or so he attempted to put together a choral festival of sorts, featuring choirs from three churches. It looked like it was going to happen. At the end of this past summer a date had finally been set, actual pieces of music were being discussed, the location of the concert had been agreed to and consent given, and I looked forward to it. The event was supposed to have taken place this afternoon.

Unfortunately, the plans were scrubbed about three weeks ago. See, this is Columbus Day weekend, a 'holiday' for students and bankers, and about the same time the peak of fall color is in our area. It was the director of music at the church which was to host the event who pulled out, claiming too many people were going to be out of town this particular weekend. I'm of Italian descent and the only reason I have a holiday is because I arranged to use 2 days' vacation time to shove around priorities so I could be free to attend the dress rehearsal and the concert itself.

Now ordinarily if someone canceled plans I would go back and resume my normal weekend routine. But as I had scheduled time off, and (miracle of miracles!) the weather was cooperating, my dear wife and I agreed that this would be a good time for another mini-break.

Our last, the first week in July in the Smokies, did not turn out as recharging as hoped for. I describe some of the experience in a previous post here. But what I didn't say then (because it was unknown at the time) that has been bothering me since was something else I brought home as a souvenir. Chiggers.

In consideration for the comfort of my family, while parked at the old Methodist Church in Cades Cove, a few of the nasty insects decided to make the floor of my new car their new home. From the time we returned until now, I have been affected by chigger bites, and I've suffered worse than average allergic reactions to them. It took this long to understand the source of the trouble because we weren't completely certain it was a cause to consider.

But again I digress. There were some things we wanted to do over this time as well, things we do this time of year, things that have affected who I am and what I do.

As a church musician, and one who has flexible hours to boot, I often sing at funeral services. This has had some very interesting side effects, stuff I won't go into great detail. But as a result I have become a fan, as it were, of another of the ancient Church leaders: Saint Benedict.

What I originally knew of Benedict, a 6th Century priest, was that he was the founder of the monastic movement. What I didn't know until recently is that Benedict is the patron saint of a peaceful or 'happy' death. My wife recommended that I wear a St. Benedict medal when visiting my mom at the nursing home or when attending a wake or funeral, so one of the planned stops was at a Catholic shrine and gift shop to stock up.

Also this weekend was a visit to the gravesites of our family ancestors. This ritual began for me not long after I met my wife, nearly 30 years ago. Every spring we would take her grandmother out to weed and decorate the family graves. It was an elaborate ritual that included going to a nearby nursery to load the car with geraniums - so many of a specific color which had significance. When her grandmother died 23 years ago, my wife and I more or less inherited the role of gravekeepers. And it's not such a bad thing. Despite what Hollywood and the thriller writers hit you with, cemeteries are generally very peaceful places. There is energy there, reminders of the lives of those whose remains are buried or remembered there; but it's not there to scare you (unless, of course, you want to be scared).

On occasion I would drive through the cemetery - at those times I was in my dress clothes for Sunday Mass and I didn't have time to do much other than acknowledge that without their lives, I would not have mine. Today, though, was the opportunity to linger in the spirit of the coming All Saints Day - also known as All Hallows; and its vigil, All Hallows' Eve, known more colloquially as Halloween.

I had forgotten what happens in modern cemeteries, with flat headstones designed so that groundskeepers can mow grass more efficiently. The headstones get covered up; some of them sink ever so slightly. I had trouble finding the graves of my wife's grandparents; they had become victims of nature and the lawn mowing. My wife can't move as well as she used to, and we weren't necessarily prepared for what we encountered; so I got down on my hands and knees and began to rip clumps of grass and dirt from the earth, and dug with a dinner spoon in an attempt to clear away the headstones to the best of my ability. It was mine to do, and will be mine as long as I am able - after all, this is a prerequisite. One must join in the dance of the dead in order to effectively console the survivors among the living. As macabre as that might sound, it is really not so at all. It is extending a bond that you began when both were living, and I see it as an investment toward my own afterlife.
Catholics believe in the intercession of the community of saints, those who have gone before us. And I have recently been reminded in other ways just how much God can multiply the smallest of efforts. It has been routine, especially since my father-in-law and my grandmother died in recent years, to remember them in my prayer time.

So I beg forgiveness among the living who today were expecting to hear my singing voice. I was really needed elsewhere. Everything is fine, and will be fine.

And Now...Page Four

2010-10-10T07:37:00.000-05:00

Cripes! Has it been THAT long since I was brave enough to make a post?

I suppose there have been reasons. Mainly, I thought -at least for that moment- I had simply run out of things to say. That period is over. Now the issue becomes finding the time and energy to put my thoughts in order and get them on paper (as it were).

I want to take a step back...to about the end of July. At that point in time I had learned that Bill, an old friend of mine, was leaving the country to teach third grade in Kuwait. Yeah, I was a bit stunned by this. I had barely understood the fact that Bill was teaching at all, let alone that he'd taken a job half a world away, all but cutting himself off from those of us who knew him...or in some cases, thought they knew.

I came to understand some of his motivation, and I didn't want to discourage him. Every person has multiple opportunities in life to make a difference - not only in the life or lives of others, but in his or hers as well. Most of us struggle every day of our lives with this, myself included, even though we may not see it.

I learned two days ago that Bill has been unceremoniously dismissed from his teaching job in Kuwait. I say this because it does not seem to have the earmarkings of a firing a la Donald Trump on The Apprentice.

Bill had high but guarded hopes when he accepted the job. There was every indication that he had the tools and ability needed. But after the first few weeks, the posts back to us were fewer and a lot less verbose. There were concerns and discouragement. Finally, the word came back that he was dismissed because he couldn't control his students.

At this point I want to address the Anonymous poster who replied to my July post as late as September 13, and who apparently commented on Bill's own blog to the point he deleted it altogether. Are you satisfied? Did whatever you say accomplish the intent for which the posts were made? Does it matter that you've "kept copies of everything?" For what it's worth, I don't think you had anything to do with the entire situation except put additional stress on an already stressful situation. There are more real reasons that don't involve outside interference.

Bill went to a country where, despite our diplomatic ties and the facade of a nation that would appear to be an ally, the overwhelming majority of the culture doesn't understand to dislikes to outright hates American culture. That is a handicap from the very start. People know where you're from and you represent all those things they don't understand and dislike.

That being said, I think that what did Bill in even worse is that the American educational model has gone to hell in a handcar. Bill is not the only teacher who has been unable to control a bunch of eight-year-olds. I daresay there are many right here who have the same problem. The reason they don't get fired is that their positions are protected by contract. Plus, we've allowed legislation and lawsuits to push the system to the point where American eight-year-olds often learn more about life on the streets than they will ever learn in the classroom. Add to this the stresses placed on both student and teacher to 'perform' (as in test) well by cramming for standardized tests that were not given when I was that age.

When I was eight, part of my education - and my learning - was fostered by the fear of God. My teachers were able to teach - but they also had the authority of an overseer - they could do something when kids got out of line, as they did even then. Today, the answer is to send them someplace else until nobody else will take them, and then simply deny them the education they by law are supposed to receive. The trouble is, very few are really receiving that sort of education anymore. This is not the reality in the rest of the world. For better or worse, other countries are doing better at preparing youth for life than we are. Perhaps that is what Bill did not understand. It is hard to say.

Bill is moving on. He has apparently accepted a teaching job in another country in another part of the world. I won't say where he is going at the moment. I believe this will prove better for him, but only time and his own experience will tell.

It is hard to know when being compassionate means having to be firm about an issue. It is difficult to, as I have been reminded to do from my Catholic culture, "hate the sin yet love the sinner." Still, to do otherwise does nothing to improve our lot in life.

Larry's Celebrity Roast

2010-08-10T10:05:00.000-05:00

The Word:
Psalm 112:5 (Blessed is the man who is gracious and lends to those in need)

(Here's a synopsis for a potential Veggie Tales episode. Unfortunately, I don't think it will ever be used. Due to the nature of the true story on which this is based, while the overall ending is happy, and the intended lesson is taught, part of the storyline would most likely be deemed too intense for young or sensitive viewers.)

This is a story about riches, service, and one man's juggling of priorities to do, as is often said on VT, what is right.

Our story centers around Larry (played by Larry the Cucumber), who works for a business in Rome. He is an executive assistant to "Mr. Six." (who, after much discernment over casting, is played by Bob the Tomato. Or possibly Archibald, the Asparagus with the British accent who wears a monocle. I'm still not sure who would be a better fit.)

Over two hundred years have passed since the time of Jesus. Remember the story in the Book of Acts? From the time the first seven great assistants were appointed, their job was to keep track of the wealth of the Church, with a priority on spending that wealth on those who needed it - the poor, the sick, the orphaned, and the elderly - people who had nobody to care for or pray for them. As the church grew, so did its potential wealth - and also the people who needed it.

The Emperors of Rome (all played by Mr. Nezzer) never quite understood how some people were able to get rich. The Emperors amassed their wealth by taxing the people for nearly everything under the sun. And if you were not a native Roman citizen (meaning you lived in one of the territories or colonies claimed by the Empire), you tended to pay a lot more taxes. But that's really another story. The Emperors tended to spend their wealth on personal luxury; and when they needed more stuff, they would finance wars to extend their empire and collect more taxes.

By the time Larry and Mr. Six were around, the Empire was in financial straits. Things that had been built to support the Empire were in need of repair, and the Emperor was not about to give up his personal lifestyle or wealth to fix things. He wanted more money. And here was Mr. Six and his business, thought to have enough excess wealth to be able to feed the hungry, clothe the needy, and shelter the homeless. Mr. Six set aside any profit from his business to use in this way. Further, he set such a good example doing this that most of his employees chipped in extra, so they could rightfully claim they also helped.

Well, one day the Emperor sent out his prefect (played ubiquitously by Mr. Lunt) to Mr. Six, demanding that the assets of the company be turned over to the Emperor. In the Emperor's mind, this was just like any other organization within the Empire, of which he was top banana (or zucchini, or cucumber, or whatever) and whatever he wanted, he got; and if he didn't get it, he would take it by force.

As you might guess, the meeting between the prefect and Mr. Six didn't go well. Mr. Six knew that God wanted him to use the wealth he was holding - which wasn't his, after all, but God's - on those who really needed it. So he flatly refused - and was led away to jail, where he was sentenced to be executed (not made executive - there could be some dark humor there).

While all this was happening, Larry was out doing what was right - what God wanted him to do. He had spent the night at the home of a poor widow, fixing her the best meal she'd had in some time - as Larry was an expert in cooking on the grill. He also gave her house a good cleaning, getting help from some of the young boys in the neighborhood, whom Larry also fed. All the while, Larry would tell all manner of stories and jokes, as this helped to pass the time and lighten an otherwise heavy work load. Nobody seemed to mind. People had come to know that a visit from Larry meant at least a few hours of a really good time.

The following morning, Larry headed back to his office to do all the paperwork; but on his way there, he encountered the prefect and some soldiers, 'escorting' Mr. Six to a place from which Larry knew he wasn't returning. Larry, in shock, asked Mr. Six, "Where are you going, and especially without me? I have gone with you everywhere you wanted or needed to go." And Mr. Six, knowing that this was their last meeting in this life, had a message from God for Larry, told him to go to work and get all the paperwork in order, and that after three days had passed, the two would meet again.

Larry went about his work diligently, as he had been told. I don't really know if he knew what fate had come to Mr. Six, but I suspect he was aware of the possibility. Two days had passed and Mr. Six had not come into the office. And on the third day, Prefect Lunt shows up to see Larry. You guessed it - he was demanding that the riches of Mr. Six's company be turned over to the Emperor. Larry, in the meantime, had put in overtime paying out more bills, buying extra food and supplies and getting these distributed. He didn't want to have any assets on the books that the Emperor could claim. On the contrary, he wanted to demonstrate to the prefect and the Emperor what the company's assets really were.

Prefect Lunt ordered Larry to appear before the Emperor the next day, and at that time to surrender the wealth of the company. At the appointed time, Larry appeared, not with gold or jewels or the keys to his office or the deed to the property on which the business stood. Instead, with Larry were many of the people he had helped through the generosity of Mr. Six's employees. He defiantly told Lunt and the Emperor, "This is my master's wealth - and as such the company has greater riches than you!"

Well, as you might guess, the Emperor thought this was some kind of joke; and it could have been taken as one, as Larry was quite the teller of funny stories. (It had helped him immensely when he worked with others, and his sense of humor was keen. It was known that Larry did stand-up comedy at times to help raise money, and never took anything for himself.) However, as it became clear that Larry wasn't kidding about this, the Emperor decided to give Larry a roasting; immediately, and he was to be the guest of honor.

Larry, true to God and to his character, went to meet his Master and his boss in good spirits. While enduring his fate, he would quip that he needed to be turned because he wasn't quite done yet; and dared his tormentors to take a bite. (Roasted cucumber happens to taste quite good.)

As usual, the show would take it's turn at summarizing its main point ("God has a lot to say in his book"). So when Bob asks Querty for a Bible verse, I would use Psalm 112:5, above; or John 12:26, or 2 Corinthians 9:6-10. All of these speak of spreading God's wealth where it is most needed.

After what I've written in the last few days regarding pain and suffering as a Christian, and recognizing that this is an incomplete theology, Deacon St. Lawrence reminds us that many people died for their beliefs when the Church was in its early years. What percentage of the population went the way of martyrdom is not truly known; it's even possible that a similar percentage is destined to that end still today. It's generally not martyrdom alone that ushers these souls into God's presence; but the acts of charity worked in an environment opposed to such works.

So remember, God loves you - and everyone - very much!
Deacon Saint Lawrence, pray for us.

Priorities

2010-08-09T11:20:00.001-05:00

The Word:
Acts 15:1-33 (The First Council of Jerusalem)

After completing my previous post on Saturday, reflecting on the Keys to the Kingdom, I went off to Mass to sing, as it was my turn on the schedule. Little did I know that my prayers and reflection on the discovery of those keys would be answered.

My new Catholic pastor Fr. Bill chose to preach not directly on the selected Scripture readings for the weekend. He touched off briefly on the second reading, Hebrews 11:1-2 & 8-12, on Abraham as the Church's 'Father in Faith'; and then took off on the reason the Council of Jerusalem was gathered in about the year 50 CE.

The question before the council: How Jewish was the Christian Church going to be?
The issue: Peter and the other Apostles were of the Jewish faith, as was Jesus. While Jesus had often questioned the intent of the Jewish leadership of his time, he was nonetheless devout and maintained the required practices of the faith. The Apostles' preaching had developed a modest following in and around Jerusalem, though naturally kept in check by the political climate around the place. Progress was slow, and generally kept from overwhelming fanfare.

On the other hand, Paul of Tarsus had begun to spread the Good News, in areas apart from Judea. Paul, whose original intent had been to snuff out the Light of Christ, had instead become a most steadfast light-bearer. His message was not taken too well in Jerusalem (he was seen as a turncoat), so the Apostles sent him out to reach people elsewhere. And indeed, there were many people of the Jewish faith to be reached. But Paul welcomed all within earshot to hear the message he was sent to preach, and there were just as many, if not more, enlightened by the message of a resurrected Savior who brought life and hope to a troubled world. The question was the Jewish practice of circumcision. It was required of all Jewish men - they went through this painful surgical procedure a week after birth. Those who would convert to the community of The Way, it was thought, should be required to undergo this process as an adult.

(Okay, guys, this is about us, as we have the equipment. Ladies, please skip to the next paragraph. Guys, would you be willing to shed a portion of your flesh anywhere on your body - let alone one of the most sensitive spots??)

Pain and suffering. Isn't that what Jesus endured in bitter agony, anguish, and torment - so that the rest of us would not? (A very important point with multiple implications, that will be addressed further.)

After much debate (whittled down to a handful of verses by Luke), it was determined that the significance of the symbolism of circumcision not understood by the Gentiles paled in comparison to their potential lost support. Conversion meant lots of good things, not only to the people; not the least of which was mutual care and concern for each other. The Apostles were doing the math, as it were; calculating the potential as well as the risk. Guided by the Holy Spirit, the Church chose to take on the risk. After all, those who had walked in Jesus' company knew through direct experience that Jesus looked at the world differently. They saw his priorites as more important.

Fr. Bill then took us to the present. It is no secret that the Catholic liturgy is undergoing revision again. It has been commanded by the Powers That Be that vernacular translations of the Mass more closely match the Latin text of the Roman Missal, Latin being the official language of the Roman Catholic Church. Yet it seems that neither Jesus, nor his disciples, nor the evangelists and writers of the New Testament, spoke or wrote in Latin. They spoke Aramaic or Hebrew or Greek. These texts were formally translated to Latin beginning in roughly the 4th Century.

Consider for a moment the humor found when one goes through several languages to arrive at a literal translation to important instruction. There are examples of it all over the Internet. Now consider that for Catholics, the 'new' translation of the Missal is not really new at all, but resurrects texts not used in nearly half a century. "The Lord be with you." But no longer "also with you," but rather "with your spirit." Wanna run that by me again? The body isn't good enough anymore?

The most contested of these texts is in the transliteration of the Nicene Creed. In Latin, the phrase Consubstantialem Patri; in our current English use, "one in being with the Father" becomes "con-substantive with the Father." As Fr. Bill quipped, when is the last time you used or heard the word "con-substantive" used in a sentence? (Reminiscent of watching the National Spelling Bee.) Then he continued to suggest that just maybe, considering the state of the Church and her priesthood, and the general state of the world, that priorities might not quite be in order.

That was the answer to my prayer. Compassion and mercy were still on top of the list where God was concerned. Yes, there would still be all these other things, and like Peter, our most well-intended thoughts and actions may get in the way of what we're called to do and to be. This reaffirmed what I had tersely written at the conclusion of my last post. I must first be open to receiving God's compassion and mercy, understand I have already received it, and spread it in every possible way. The lines in the sand that humanity insists must be drawn will always be there. Jesus showed us that these lines must not become too solid, lest we forget our own ultimate destiny on life's pilgrimage.

And then Fr. Bill finishes his homily, and invites the congregation to "profess our faith...before we change our minds." This causes one of the loudest outbursts of laughter I've heard in a Catholic Church in a long time...which makes me wonder if I can possibly sing the remainder of the service and keep a dignified face. God provided the grace, as always.

On Sunday, it was out to Cornerstone, the Methodist congregation I have come to consider a second spiritual home.

On the plan for the day - the sermon from a missionary to, of all places, Lithuania. I was intrigued for several reasons. One, the missionary is from the Cornerstone congregation; two, Lithuania's demography is 95% Christian (and likely 90% Catholic); and third, the music director at my Catholic church is a Lithuanian immigrant. There are fewer than 700 registered Methodists in the entire country, and only six pastors; yet, people there refer to the Methodist Church as "the little Church that cares."

Given the demographics, the preacher wondered why he was being sent to Lithuania. Then he began to research the country's history of struggles and occupation. Territorial ownership changed many times over the last 700 years; the last, as one of the Soviet Russian republics, was thrown out nearly twenty years ago. Under Soviet and Communist rule, Catholicism was left barely intact as the state religion. Even so, many churches were ordered converted for secular use, including one cathedral which became an atheist museum and cultural center.

A popular shrine in Lithuania is the (English name) "Hill of Crosses." Wikipedia states that as of 2006 there are an estimated 100,000 crosses of various sizes and styles that have been left there for just as many needs and intentions. Looking at the pictures provided by Wikipedia, and one other provided by the missionary during his sermon, it is clear that a majority of these crosses bear the body of the crucified Jesus, something particular but not necessarily limited to Catholicism. Given their history, Lithuanian Christians have been immersed in the aspect of Jesus as the Suffering Servant; and with it, the theology that one can expect to live this life in misery in anticipation of a glorious life in heaven.

Catholics in America should also recognize this theology. Until about fifty years ago, pain and suffering was as standard fare in preaching as is daily Holy Communion. Even today, Catholics confront that part of their identity during Lent. Many of us have an understanding now that this theology, while indeed accurate, is incomplete.

Straddling the fence as I do, I know that this is preached even today. Still, I also take this with an understanding that this is how many people have come to cope with life; and that a majority of Christians will resonate with it at least once in their lifetime. That there is a "little church that cares" is by God's design. Not that big churches don't care; I can confidently say they do. What holds things back are the things of our flawed humanity, and the weaknesses permeate everything of this world, just as do our strengths and triumphs.

In 1991 Lithuania broke away as a Russian territory and reestablished itself as an independent state. It was a courageous move. More courageous still will be the day when we're all aware that it takes joy and triumph as well as pain and suffering to exalt every valley and straddle the mountaintops, to make the crooked roads straight, and the rough places plain. How we will do it will depend on the priorities we set; but the greatest of these -for me- will be in the tender compassion of God, as the dawn of a new day breaks upon us. May it shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death, and may it guide all of our footsteps in the way of everlasting peace.

Keys to the Kingdom

2010-08-07T14:29:00.000-05:00

The Word (Matthew 16:18-19, NIV):

"I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven; whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven."

I was helping my dear wife the other day. Our dining room table has a compartment below its surface, and it has to be cleaned out periodically as table crumbs from our meals get down in there and accumulate. It was my intention to get this out of the way and not procrastinate in this tedious but necessary task.

While going about cleaning there were the usual discoveries: a few instruction booklets and warranty cards from small appliances we no longer owned, the stray pen or two that no longer worked, and a few other things that we were ready to discard. Likewise, there were other things that needed to be kept and if possible relocated to other storage places.

We were nearing the end of the job when I discovered a set of keys on a fob my wife had made. Because this was her handiwork, I thought the keys were hers - to someplace like her parents' house, a place we don't normally need keys to get to but should have should there be an emergency. But no, these weren't hers, she said.

I took another look at them. A couple of them were stamped as having been duplicated by the locksmith in town. And then it hit me. These were the keys to the church building where I had served as a deacon until eleven years ago, that part of my life I wrote about in this blog and behind me; at least that's what I thought.

But keys are generally carried on a man's person, and carry all the energy - good and bad - that accumulate over time by the person bearing them. Flood gates were released, a wound was reopened, and with it, the haunting notion behind Jesus' words, quoted by the apostle Matthew.

Most traditional Christians and especially Catholics are aware of the symbolism behind Peter's receiving the keys to the Pearly Gates. By these words he becomes the gatekeeper. He also becomes the rock, the foundation, the leader, of the early Church. No matter how many times he would do something of questionable or dubious thought througout the Gospels, here it is made clear that Peter is to inherit the mantle of leadership.

But there's more. In undertaking this role, Peter is given carte blanche authority in making decisions. Whatever you declare lawful on earth is lawful in heaven, and whatever you declare unlawful on earth is automatically unlawful in heaven. Phenomenal and absolute power! Many times, of course, Peter demonstrated in both strength and weakness that Jesus had chosen from the beginning of time the right person for this arduous task. Then you consider the concept of apostolic succession, meaning all Peter's successors as popes of the Church assumed the same authority and power - and to an extent, every bishop as well.

I thought of these verses and the implications therein as I stared at the keys in my hand, with a sense of near burning heat to them. I was reminded that I was far from perfect, and I will one day have to account for my imperfections and lack of full discernment. Much that has transpired over the last eleven years from a faith perspective could be questionable according to whose rules I am judged.

I've lost track of how many times I've holed myself up privately to throw my life at Jesus' feet and beg for mercy and compassion - because I indeed believe and surely trust in those attributes above just about everything else I've been taught along these lines. But is that all lost in the final analysis due to what Jesus said to Peter? That judgment is already determined?

I cannot, I must not read too much into this. I still trust in God's love and mercy. And to assure that it is there, I must act as if I have already received it, which indeed I have. I must show others as best I can the depths to which that mercy and compassion can reach. Here, in this life, this is not a simple thing. The keys remind me of that. In our existence, there are impenetrable fortresses, deep chasms, and all manner of locks and blockades and red tape and policies and procedures and code that would make one think that any attempt to break through is useless.

But one candle's light penetrates the darkness, and one simple act of kindness has the potential of unlocking so many doors that will otherwise remain closed. The evidence in these times prove it out.

The Third One's The Charm

2010-07-27T12:25:00.002-05:00

A month has passed since the Methodist and Catholic pastors under which I've served for years have moved on from their long-held posts. So far, the gracious people sent to replace them have tread softly among their respective new congregation, and both have been a bit more conservative in their approach, probably out of necessity more than anything else.

It's been interesting listening to them preach. Pastor Lisa at Cornerstone has been a larger standout to me, of course, because she is the first woman in that role I have observed directly. But neither she nor Father Bill (pastor at Ascension) has yet to show themselves in any contrary way. As Martha Stewart might say, "that's a good thing."

A third person's influence returned and just as quickly passed from me in the last two weeks. And his story is as unusual as the transition with my pastors has been more-or-less smooth.

I first met Bill (the third person) when I left the parochial school environment for public junior high school in the seventh grade. I'm not sure now what we saw in each other. Perhaps it was that we were both something of social outcasts from quirky school cliques. Perhaps it was that we both lived in the same town. It may have simply been that our last names were virtually next to each other alphabetically. Whatever the reason, Bill was one person out of hundreds of unknown faces, one who didn't shove me in some useless hole. I would walk or ride a bike up and down the steep hills in our river-straddling village to see him. Later in high school we wound up traveling together - as he was a full year older than me (yet in the same grade), he got his driver's license and had access to a car long before me. We worked in our first two jobs together - at the McDonald's across the street from the high school we attended, and our first job utilizing computers - as we sorted out punch cards to run the school's daily absentee report. Bill and I somehow got into the mindset that our careers would be in the vast and rapidly expanding territory that would become dominated by computers. Only in 1970, this was before the personal computer (IBM or Mac), or Microsoft Windows, or the Internet. 'Blogging' had not been coined yet; journals were still the product of handwritten notebooks. 'Word processing' was still being done on a typewriter, and copies were the domain of the mimeograph machine, complete with its piquant aroma.

After graduation, Bill and I made the transition to junior college. Fate would take us in different ways; both of us somewhat delayed in finding the right career path. Bill wound up working as a security guard; I started working for a retail inventory service. Bill still studied programming numbers; I was crunching them. Both of us found girlfriends and were dating. He married in 1975; I married six years later.

And that's where all similarity ends.

When Bill got married, he moved in with his wife's family - the intent being, as is the case with so many young couples struggling in difficult financial waters, to start a life of their own as soon as it was practical. But it never got that way. Bill was looking for an opening in his chosen career path, and he eventually made his way through it; but never looked back to put that in place as an anchor around which to build a place for his growing family. Instead, it eventually got too crowded and too tense to handle. His wife divorced him, moving out on her own. He continued to live with his now former in-laws. As his parents had also divorced (before I had known him), this new arrangement seemed to be normal to Bill - but not to nearly anyone else whom we mutually knew. And the new addition to the environment was genuinely tough on his three children.

As we continued to move through our separate lives, we naturally drifted apart and didn't see each other for longer and longer periods of time. I confess that my previous face-to-face encounter with Bill was about eight years ago, when another of our intimate circle of high school friends passed away, a victim of Lou Gehrig's disease, ALS.

It was about a year ago that I was encouraged by yet one other of our intimate circle to open a Facebook account. Where MySpace is overrun with teens, and Twitter the online roost for celebrity gossip, Facebook appears to be more middle ground for the average, computer-literate Joe and Joanna. After a bit of trepidation (I wasn't sure as to what kind of Pandora's Box I could be opening), I opened the account. Within a few hours Bill caught up with me.

Seems that at some point over the last eight years, Bill went through a metamorphosis of his own. (As did I, and have chronicled here.) He explained to me that he got squeezed on his rise up the corporate ladder. A project he and some colleagues had sweated over was completed ahead of schedule and within budget, yet he received no credit or recognition of the effort. His last performance review was essentially copied from the previous year. He had risen to the highest he could go, and would have to stay there or jump off and start again. He took the leap.

I started reading through some of Bill's comments (brief, as deemed necessary by the restrictions of social networking etiquette). He had gone through a major career change. He had entered the 'ed biz' (as comic songwriter Tom Lehrer once put it). He had been to China! I presume the latter had at least something to do with the former. Out of all the career choices Bill could get into, teaching was one of the last of which I could picture him in my mind's eye. Still, though this seemed to make no sense, there was some logic to this choice. Teaching is a lucrative profession from the perspective of how much you can earn. Public school teachers' salaries in and around Chicago are all over the place, and some teachers command annual pay in the six-figure range. Then there's the perception that teaching work is a fairly easy job - a perception that by and large is patently false, as the best teachers (in both home and institutional education) will tell you. Then there's a third piece of logic; an old maxim: "Those who can, do...those who can't, teach"...

I read these posts about the same as most I read, grateful that the world was still spinning on its axis and in the orbit God had ordered before our footprints touched the landscape. I was content that Bill was still alive and in relatively good health, and that his life was moving in a forward direction. These things become all the more fragile the older we get.

The latest bend in the road came just over two weeks ago, when I received a 'wall-to-wall' post from Bill. He had found a teaching job and would be moving away; and wanted to get together one last time before he left. Sure, why not? After all, we've known each other for over forty years and with many of our circle scattered across the country (not to mention life everlasting), it was important enough to offer him my best wishes over dinner.

Oh, I almost forgot. Bill's teaching job is in Kuwait.

KUWAIT!!!!????

Well, Bill told me that he's going to Kuwait to teach because the economic recession sharply reduced his chances of finding a job locally. He has a point, particularly in Illinois since the state is in financial straits and has delayed payment of tax subsidies to school districts here. (Here, a chunk of property taxes is the basis of the subsidy paid to public schools.) But why Kuwait? Wasn't there anyplace else in the USA looking for teachers?

Bill mentioned that the school where he'll be teaching is paying for his relocation, that is to say, his airfare. He's not taking much in the way of personal possessions; I recall him saying that he's got a grand total of three or four suitcases, and two of these are carry-on bags that include his laptop computer. He believes he'll earn enough to cover his basic expenses; and he has enough reserve cash saved in the event something goes wrong. His research indicates that health care coverage is better there than here; that the cost of living will be better there than here (since he will not have a car, that improves the bottom line). From what he told me, he spent several months researching and preparing for this, and he believes he has all the big bases covered. While there were still some issues pending as of Sunday, when he left here, there were temporary workarounds in place which would suffice until he got there and worked with whatever powers or agencies necessary to have everything in proper order.

After this, knowing he's going through with this no matter what my feelings or opinions are, and knowing he has family, I asked what I thought was the big question. Not why he was doing it or whether or not this was overreaching, but something more important to me.

What do Bill's children think of Dad leaving the country and not likely to return for nine months - or perhaps at all?

He fidgeted for a bit before answering. "I really didn't tell them," he said. Then he added that his daughters found out about it, but his son still doesn't know and he has no intention of telling him.
That said a lot to me; a lot that I was hoping I wouldn't discover about my longtime friend. Sure, his children are all of adult age now; so the relatively quiet departure is not an abandonment, not in the legal sense, anyway. Any real abandonment took place long before now.

I looked at Bill from a distance, removing for a moment all that we did together those many years ago. I first approached his decision to undertake this venture as something of a noble gesture; sure, it was something he found he could do, and to take it outside of the box (he also did a teaching stint at a Native American Reservation school for a year, working for a non-profit company). To receive the cooperation and respect of young, malleable, moldable children and put their futures in motion in a positive way is indeed a great and honorable way to live life. I have great respect for my many teachers, and not all of my teachers have been in the classroom. But institutional education, for all its prominence, is a forced society. Many of my classmates discovered this for the first time while treading the hallowed halls of high school, only to sell out the minute they graduated; and then reawakened when they got married, had kids, and had to start sending them to schools now having to prove their ability in the wake of standardized test scores and the "No Child Left Behind" laws.

While I wish Bill success in his new venture, I can't help but wonder if this is an attempt to succeed on one level where he did not at another; a gesture that, cast against the larger picture of his life, would look to be some sort of self-serving 'repentance' that barely scratches the surface where true repentance is concerned. Even here, I have cast judgment that is really not mine to make.

I reflected when I arrived home after our parting dinner that 'education' and 'learning' are two separate and distinct things. In America, 'education' is mandated. 'Education' is the process by which static knowledge is passed on with the hope of retention, sort of like playing Trivial Pursuit. 'Learning' happens when you discover something important about yourself, or the way something impacts you and those you love, and that is stored in your memory in such a way that you can recall it without having to go to a computer, database, or encyclopedia and look it up. 'Learning' is the more important of the two, and it shouldn't be hard to see that; yet, for each and every one of us, the mandated 'education' ends at age 18, but the opportunity for 'learning' lasts until the mind fails due to trauma, or even worse, lack of use.

I took the opportunity to send Bill an e-mail thanking him for the opportunity to get together and chat; after all, it is the right and proper thing to do. While saying thanks and offering best wishes, I wrote that he has a wonderful opportunity for learning in this process. Such learning has the potential to change lives. In looking back over my years of direct contact with Bill, and with Pastor Paul and Father Damien, not to mention the 30+ years I've been happily married to my loving wife, I've learned and re-learned a lot that defines who I am and where I stand; what I do and why I do it the way I do. That will remain with me forever.

Indeed, all true 'learning' changes your life. If it doesn't, it's just chalked up as getting an education.

The Road Not Taken

2010-07-09T19:21:00.002-05:00

Reflections on "What I Did on My Summer Vacation"

The Word:

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

--The Road Not Taken (1920)
Robert Frost (1874-1963)

They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot
With a pink hotel, a boutique
And a swinging hot spot
Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you've got
Till it's gone
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot

They took all the trees
Put 'em in a tree museum
And they charged the people
A dollar and a half just to see 'em
Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you've got
Till it's gone
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot

Hey farmer farmer
Put away the D.D.T. now
Give me spots on my apples
But leave me the birds and the bees
Please!
Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you've got
Till it's gone
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot

Late last night
I heard my screen door slam
And a big yellow taxi
Took away my old man
Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you've got
Till it's gone
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot

I said don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you've got
Till it's gone
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot

They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot

They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot

--Big Yellow Taxi (1970)
Joni Mitchell (b. 1943)

Blessed are the times when the sun and stars align, the finances and time are both available, and you can 'get away from it all' with your family to see the beauty God created and Planet Mother Earth has held sacred for time and eternity. More blessed still when you learn something about yourself and your universe in the process (or are reminded about something you forgot).

It has been 22 years since my wife and I had anything bordering on what you might call a 'proper' vacation. It's been 25 years since we last visited the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, just outside of Gatlinburg, Tennessee.

In the time that's passed between then and now, we brought children into the world; lost one of them before it even had a chance to voice an opinion; I went through three employers; scratched out a living; and at one point, nearly lost everything (as I have documented here in previous posts). So when I was blessed with the opportunity, I wanted to treat the family to an experience we really hadn't had for some time.

After doing some research on potential accessible locations, we agreed on the Smokies. Lodging rates were exceptional, better than they are here near Chicago or in areas nearby. I was excited at the prospect of a road trip. My mother's family is from New Jersey, and every year we'd make the trip there to see them; so I was used to the idea of long car rides and had something of an admiration for map reading and taking in the view along the way. My wife's family used to take canoe trips in the summer, and my wife still has a deep and special affection for nature and natural surroundings. The Smokies satisfied all these requirements.

As I write now from home on the day after our four-day, whirlwind tour, I can say without question that the trip was indeed an experience, and one in which I learned a little more about myself and the universe I see around me. I am not sorry we did it; still, it's good to get home.

We had decided to leave on July 5 (Monday) as it was the last day of an extended holiday weekend. Because the distance to cover would take over 13 hours, we left at 3:00 AM to beat any potential traffic jams. And the drive there was more-or-less smooth sailing, until we reached the exit from I-40 into the area. Then, suddenly, it was revealed that about 100,000 motorists had the same idea. We were still 20 miles out and had run into gridlock.

I had expected that the area would be more developed than it was 25 years ago when my wife and I last visited. For openers, there was Dollywood - the theme park named for native daughter Dolly Parton, the famous country singer and actress. Several new attractions had also come to the nearby area - the most touted being a replica of the Titanic, the 'unsinkable' ocean liner that struck an iceberg and sank nearly a century ago; and an indoor aquarium that got rave reviews as being one of the leading attractions in all of the South. But I had not expected to sit in traffic as a result of people trying to get to one venue or the other.

Ninety minutes later, we reached our motel and managed to get in a dip in the pool to ease the tension from all those hours in transit. I'm not a swimmer, but it still felt good getting in the water. Rather than venture out into the sea of humanity (which we'd noted was already out in force) to eat dinner, we ordered pizza from a place known to locals only two blocks away, and dined al fresco from the private balcony of our room. (The balcony was my discovery - my wife thought that extra door opened into a connecting room.)

Tuesday morning, we set off to investigate the national park, the premier attraction, what we'd all been wanting to see. But the day started off with excitement of its own, as my son fell down a flight of stairs as we left our room to get into the car. He got up immediately, but looked as if he were disoriented. My wife has some difficulty negotiating stairs as well, so I had her wait on the landing so I could pass her and do a first check on my son. He had a few visible scrapes and some bruises, but nothing that - at first glance - would require emergency room treatment. My wife came along presently and checked him out as only a mother can. Deciding that he was none the worse for wear, we set off for Cades Cove, a late 19th-Century village that had been abandoned with the creation of the national park. The park service continued to maintain the buildings (which includes two small churches), and put in a one-way loop road so that visitors could see the pristine surroundings and perhaps take away some impression of what life was like in that era. We had brought along a very light breakfast which we ate at a picnic grove next to a mountain stream along the way.

I must say here that my wife's affinity for nature goes much deeper than a physical attraction; that is, aesthetically pleasing to the senses. She has a sense of energies, people, and events that took place when the area was settled and more-or-less thriving. Her senses had been thrown wide-open by our son's fall, and as we had not brought more substantial food to eat (discouraged because of the bear population in the park), she had little in the way of protection from what she would feel. The bombardment of energies of concern for our son, the powerful energies of land and water, the spirit of the old community, and the throngs of people passing through, ultimately proved too much. It was getting toward lunch, so we cut our tour of the cove a little short, and headed back to town as we knew there was a lunch buffet there - from a chain that operates all over the country, so we knew what we'd be getting.

Only we thought that the buffet was in Gatlinburg. It was back in Pigeon Forge, the next town up, and the one where traffic had been at a standstill the day before. Still, it was early enough in the day where I considered traffic would not be the issue it had been the afternoon before. So lunch was served, vitality was restored; and we went back to the park, this time bypassing Gatlinburg.

The afternoon destination was the Clingman's Dome overlook. At over 6600 feet above sea level it is the highest point in the park, and has offered spectacular views. But the views this time were obscured by haze, due to the effect of ozone on this hot summer day. It is said that trapped pollutants has reduced the view by up to 40% in winter and up to 80% in summer. Not only that, it was clear that something was affecting the trees. About 20% of the pines at the higher elevations were dead from a stress that is either pollution related or possibly victim to an invasive species of some sort. This, too, left us both shaking our heads.

We returned to our motel and discussed our options for our second (and last) day of sightseeing. We had dismissed attractions like the Aquarium because they really don't have anything to do with the natural attraction itself. Two separate traffic accidents on the main highway through the park were indicators that we had seen enough there. Other parts of the park were not accessible due to reconstruction of the roads leading to them, part of the recent federal government economic stimulus program. But the area was also known for its arts and crafts community. It was part of the tourist literature; it was advertised repeatedly as continuing infomercials on the local cable access channel in every lodging place within fifty miles. We hadn't really given it a fair shake on our other visits years ago, so we decided to check it out.

There was a bit more to be happy about here - we all came back with some pieces of hand-made pottery, leather goods, and wooden items we were happy with. But even here, the cost of progress raised its head. Some of the artisans listed on the brochure (which appears to have been compiled a year ago) were no longer in business. There was more an emphasis on fine art - fine art which could easily be purchased at one of many galleries right here at home in the Chicago suburbs - than on the artwork more or less unique to the area. Most of the connections that might have existed with the natural attraction seems to have been lost. We would find more of the sort of thing we had hoped to see on our way back in a town called Berea in Kentucky - at a state operated facility just off I-75. If we ever head back that way again, I hope to remember the place and spend more than just a half-hour exploring what is there.

We tried our hand at some of the local cuisine - restaurants in town that were representative of local hospitality. While the food and service were both excellent, we were a little taken aback by 'sticker shock'. A pancake breakfast for the three of us ran about $35; sandwich platters for lunch was over $45. (At dinner we cut our losses and went to KFC, again two blocks from our motel.) One of the reasons the cost is so high is obviously a hidden cost of tourism. But another is that Tennessee's restaurant and sales tax is on the high side at 9.75%. While sales tax in our immediate area is 10% it is for non-food items only. Sales tax for groceries is about 2% here, and the restaurant tax is hovering somewhere (I believe) about 7.5 - 8.5%.

I can't say that the trip didn't impress me. It did, and the Smokies really have not lost all their lure with me. However, I can't close this out without mentioning something else that impressed both my wife and I; both in the hazy predawn sky on the morning we left and in the driving rain we encountered on the return trip.

A wind turbine 'farm'.

Hundreds, maybe up to a thousand, turbines stand as sentinels in the Indiana cornfields about 100 miles south of Chicago. More are being built as well. They will help generate electrical power by use of the prevailing winds...much like the windmills of old provided a different sort of power centuries ago. These turbine farms and others like it are meant to help reduce our demand for crude oil and fossil fuels as prime sources of energy. They stand in contrast to the...well, I lost track of how much oil has erupted (and still is) from the failed BP well in the Gulf of Mexico, as tarballs and other evidence of our extravagance wash ashore and destroying a large part of an ecosystem with it. These turbines, these silent sentinels, are a sign of hope - because it offers a chance at making a much needed change in our 'standard operating procedures.'

Yes, this vacation trip was different than any other in my life. Robert Frost's poem The Road Not Taken is not about regret, but about choices, and those we inevitably must make. Joni Mitchell's lyrics still ring true today as planning commissions must weigh the potential income of expansion over its long-term costs and impact. The old adage, If you build it, they will come, still rings true - but will it ultimately destroy the pristine, natural attraction which drew visitors there first? I pray not! Images from this trip should serve to remind me that I can make a difference in affecting the future of this planet and my own life by learning to do more with less. That our one car household, who loves eating real food prepared with love and care, does a lot to minimize our carbon footprint, and that it doesn't stop here!

Finally, any physical journey and the return home is a reminder that I'm on a sojourn in spirit as well. It has its peaks and valleys, its quick stops and longer stays, but it is one that has not reached its end...not just yet.

To all the travelers
Pilgrims longing for a home
From one who walks with you
On this journey called life's road
Is is a long and winding road

From one who's seen the view
And dreamt of staying on the mountain high
And one who's cried like you
Wanting so much just to lay down and die
I offer this, we must remember this

We are not Home yet
We are not Home yet
Keep on looking ahead
Let your heart not forget
We are not home yet
Not home yet

So close your eyes with me
And hear the Father saying, "welcome home"
Let us find the strength
Ia all His promises to carry on
He said, "I go prepare a place for you"
So Let us not forget

We are not Home yet
We are not Home yet
Keep on looking ahead
Let your heart not forget
We are not home yet
We are not home yet
Keep on looking ahead
Let your heart not forget
We are not home yet

I know there'll be a moment
I know there'll be a place
Where we will see our Saviour
And fall in His embrace
So let us not grow weary
Or too content to stay
'Cause we are not home yet
Not home yet
So let us journey on

We are not Home yet
We are not Home yet
Keep on looking ahead
Let your heart not forget
We are not home yet
Not home yet

--Not Home Yet (1997)
Steven Curtis Chapman

Hello, I Must Be Going

2010-05-16T18:44:00.000-05:00

The Solemnity of the Ascension of the Lord Jesus Christ
on the Seventh Sunday of Easter

The Word:
(Ascension)
Acts 1:1-11 (Men of Galilee, why do you stand there looking at the sky?)
Psalm 47 (God mounts his throne to shouts of joy)
Ephesians 1:17-23 (Our hope is in God; He is our strength)
Luke 24:46-53 (You are witnesses of all these things)

(The Seventh Sunday of Easter)
Acts 7:55-60 (The martyrdom of Deacon Stephen)
Psalm 97 (The Lord is king, the most high over all the earth)
Revelation 22:12-20 ('I am Alpha and Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end;' Marana tha!!)
John 17:20-26 ('I pray that where I am [the faithful] may also be with me')

I have felt a bit out of sorts today. While out at Cornerstone today, my bass guitar kept cutting in and out of the church's sound system; and later, the batteries in the microphone I use died and when I went to sing, knew I wasn't coming through. For the first time ever, I began to entertain feelings like perhaps I didn't belong there.

Maybe it's because I didn't hear the passage from Acts about the martyrdom of one of my patrons, Deacon Stephen. I wouldn't have heard it even had I been with my Catholic congregation - here, as in most of the US, the observance of the Ascension of Jesus has been moved from Thursday to the following Sunday. As I quipped to Jeff, the worship coordinator, it got moved because "nobody showed up on Thursday."

Stephen's martyrdom, as witnessed by (then) Saul of Tarsus, would soon be followed by change seemingly most drastic. Saul was next in line as a sort of successor to Stephen in ministry, and that change was thrust upon him.

Paul of Cornerstone preached today on being able to accept change as a result of the Easter 'event.' As most of us are well aware, people are generally resistant to change, especially when things are going well. It is what is unknown about the future, that lack of certainty even when the likely outcome is 99% sure, that makes us resistant.

Two or three summers ago, I discussed with my friend Mike that change can sometimes be likened to the passing of the torch at the Olympics. Either you run with it or get out of the way. I said that at a time when the future as I saw it was not in as much fluctuation. I could run with it; in fact, I was eager to do so for a host of reasons.

Now, the torch is about to pass again; and not in just one place. Both Pastor Paul and Father Damien are leaving their current positions. The latter is retiring at age 71, and the former is being reassigned to a congregation sixty miles away. (God has blessed them with a great person. I say that because he is not ashamed to admit his humanness and the associated inherent weaknesses before his congregation.)

I am not ready to see either one go, especially both at the same time. It might have been easier for me if they had left months apart but that's not the plan...

Hello, I must be going
I cannot stay
I came to say
I must be going
I'm glad I came
But just the same
I must be going...

For my sake you must stay
For if you go away
You'll spoil this notion I am holding

I'll stay a week or two
No more than that for you
Yes, I am telling you
I must be going...

(Most of the lyrics above are from playwright George S. Kaufmann and immortalized by actor/comedian Groucho Marx.)

I'm reminded that after the Resurrection, the next key event in Salvation History 101 had to be Jesus' departure from the physical plane that He'd been attached to for the last thirty-odd years. It was absolutely necessary for him to leave, for had he not done so, we could not receive the Holy Spirit - the fulfillment of several prophecies in the Gospels. If Jesus had remained in the physical body on Earth forever, we'd be looking to have him intervene in everything - from political turmoil to the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. And that's just not the plan. We have to work these things out, while considering the now cliched question, "What Would Jesus Do?" Without the Ascension, without the Holy Spirit, there would be no leadership in Peter, no Deacon Stephen, no commanding exhortations from either Paul of Tarsus or Paul of Cornerstone - or anything else. All Jesus did would have been left to him, and we would be left to...well, nothing, (Arguably, but that's the only conclusion I can make.)

It's not like any of this is a sudden surprise now. I've known about this for months. But the long reminisces and goodbyes are starting; moving ahead is that much harder at the moment, and dwelling on the unknown is frustrating.

I'll get past it; God is not through with me yet. I am trusting that all will be well in the grand scheme of things; that is, the Plan as it relates on an interpersonal level, will continue to be favorable. I've already begun my round of 'thank yous' and will share more soon.

I wish nothing but the best for them, and at the same time, wish nothing but the best for all of us. After all, that is what God in his infinite love for us has so freely given...from Day One.

Sunday Breakfast

2010-04-18T17:48:00.000-05:00

The Third Sunday of Easter

The Word: Acts 5:27-41 ("We must obey God rather than men")
(Parallel reading, Daniel 1:1 - 3:88: Rack, Shack, & Benny)
Revelation 5:11-14 (from whence the finale from Handel's Messiah is taken)
John 21:1-19 (Sunday Breakfast; Peter recants his triple denial with a three-fold affirmation of his love for Jesus)

Whoa! This afternoon I realized that I haven't posted a thing in two months!

I suppose I could have posted something sooner. I had a couple of flash moments that caught me in a receptive mood, but by the time I could get to my laptop I had real trouble articulating what struck me as meaningful. (It's hard to blog during Mass or worship services!)

One such 'gotcha' came to me about a week ago. It was before the April 15 deadline for filing income tax returns in America, and there was still talk about the recession, unemployment and all things financial. Everyone seemed to be talking about financial red ink - and the moment transferred itself from the secular world to the spiritual. A place where 'red ink' could easily refer to blood. How great was that 'red ink'! An outpouring that canceled humanity's debt and allowed us all to live 'in the black' with God!

Okay, maybe that's a bit of a stretch as far as symbolism goes.

Somewhere in my string of posts (check the archives) I did a reflection on the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego (aka Hananiah, Azariah, and Mishael); better known to fans of the Veggie Tales series as Rack, Shack, and Benny. While mindlessly folding laundry yesterday, I popped this video into my DVD player, not knowing the subject matter would come back today.

The adaptation lent itself to an Easter theme of sorts. Our heroes are ordered to bow before a giant chocolate bunny as employees of Mr. (Nebuchad)Nezzer's factory, something they simply won't do; just like the post-pentecostal Apostles won't stop teaching, preaching, exhorting, and evangelizing about Jesus. Just believing in something doesn't remove you from troubles or obstacles; in many cases, those beliefs can be their source. Hmmm...

On the other hand, I really liked the concept of the "Sunday breakfast business meeting" Jesus held with the Apostles, and most notably Peter, along the Sea of Tiberias.

It's interesting to note that the usually placid and pastoral John manages to give himself some credit. The youngest of the Twelve refers to himself as "the disciple whom Jesus loved"; he summons up enough courage to stand at the foot of his Master's cross and receive the commission to attend to Mary as his own mother; he is the first of the apostles to arrive at the empty tomb and believes immediately; and in this passage, recognizes Jesus onshore while they're in the boat a football-field's length away. Yet, his one-upsmanship is subtle. John recognizes Peter as the next-in-command. He waits for Peter to get to the tomb before he witnesses the scene for himself; and in this passage, once John recognizes Jesus (man, was his eyesight good!) Peter takes over by jumping out of the boat half-naked and swims ashore to meet him.

John goes one step further in demonstrating the depths of reconciliation. Jesus asks Peter, "Do you love me?" Not once, but three times. By the third time, we can anticipate that the Master has gotten under Peter's skin just enough to make his response a bit irritated. Why do you keep asking when you know everything?

Yeah, it's those special moments that endears Peter to me all the more. And if a blustery, hapless soul like Peter can be given the keys to the executive washroom, not to mention Paradise, at a simple breakfast business meeting, there's deep, genuine, and sincere hope for all of us.

What More Can I Say?

2010-02-17T14:44:00.000-06:00

Ash Wednesday

I haven't written a post in awhile.

I've been busy to some degree. Things are changing and several facets of life are going through this "hurry up and wait" sort of metamorphosis. I've been kept busy at work on a software implementation project; but that really only explains some of it.

Honestly, I don't have the foggiest idea on what to say that's any newer, different or more interesting than what I was posting before.

I can't be sure, but maybe this is exactly where God wants me right now; with my 'fount of wisdom' emptied.

That's one of the spiritual challenges I have. When one receives and understands knowledge, it is usually required that one shares and imparts the benefits of that knowledge to anyone and everyone interested. Trouble is, it's not like the knowledge or benefits aren't generally known to the public. Further, what each person does with the knowledge and benefits is different and has circumstantial influence. In layman's terms, your mileage may vary.

So here it is. Ash Wednesday, the beginning of another season of Lent; a reminder of sorts of just one description of "why God put me here" - that is, to lay a footprint. That it's not all about me, nor my singular, vertical relationship with God. That relationship is important; but it is not complete without the horizontal relationship - stretching my arms wide open to embrace everything in the path before me. God put all that there, too.

As a child, I was encouraged to 'give up' candy and snacks during Lent so that I could get just an inkling that others go without in a much more serious manner. All it really did was provide the fuel for a huge sugar-induced blowout on Easter Sunday. Still, fifty years later, that sort of logic still pervades, even though some pastors now add the caveat that whatever you give up has to really mean something a bit more long-lasting than just the next 6-1/2 weeks.

Some pastors, particularly in England, have suggested that this year's 'give ups' lend themselves to a 'green' theme; such as turning off all electronic devices (cell phones, laptops, video games, TV) for a full day. And if anyone reading does that with the intention of helping out the planet, you have my sincere thanks and praise.

Me? I think it goes deeper than that.

I joked a few years ago that I was giving up Lent (for Lent) - sort of an anti-establishment, momentarily rebellious streak that occasionally casts a stray thought into my head. (I will not succumb to the notion that this is temptation. There is no balance if the stray thought is not given an audience.)

This year, I am simply giving up. That's it. No object attached.

I'm going to attempt surrender; but not to life itself or even the way I live it. I will attempt surrender to the preconceived "it has to be this way and not that" and lead by allowing myself to be led. Yeah, I know it doesn't sound like it makes sense. But it does. I know it. The points in my life when I allow it to be done in that open way have led to the greatest treasures God could possibly given to me.

At a point in my life when many things ahead are not clearly defined, it's a great thing to have another hand on the steering wheel. There's just nothing more I can say.

No Shortages Here

2010-01-10T16:21:00.001-06:00

The Feast of the Baptism of the Lord
(The Last Sunday in the Christmas Season)
(The First Sunday in Ordinary Time)

The Word:
Isaiah 42:1-4, 6-7 (First Song of the Servant: he is called for the victory of justice)
or Isaiah 40:1-11 (Prepare the way of the Lord!)

Psalm 29:1-10 (The Lord will bless his people with peace)
or Psalm 104:1-4, 24-30 (God’s creation looks to him for sustenance)

Acts 10:34-38 (God anointed Jesus with the Holy Spirit and power)
or Titus 2:11-14; 3:4-7 (The grace of God has appeared)

Luke 3:15-22 or Matthew 3:13-17 or Mark 1:7-11
(Jesus is baptized; the Holy Spirit descends on him; the Father speaks: “This is my beloved Son, listen to him”)

Much of the richness of the Sacrament of Baptism is due to the fact that Jesus himself conformed to a baptism in the waters of the Jordan River by his cousin John, as recorded in all four Gospels. On this day, it is meaningful to recall the vows made in our name all those years ago (55 years ago this month for yours truly), and to all that becoming Christian means.

It is NOT one-sided. That is, while God is with and through and behind it all, his gift of free-will (free choice) means that we have a response to God and a responsibility to others. These, while seemingly clearly defined, are not so clearly executed.

Due to the advances of our technology, we see the world and its prominent people – the famous and the infamous – on our television and computer screens. We read and hear about them in the news. And what we see, read, and hear, can often leave us overwhelmed to the point that we overemphasize what goes on elsewhere and manage to neglect those things and people to and with whom God has placed in our lives. Parents, spouses, children, extended relations, friends, colleagues – all people we care about to a great extent but sometimes are left to fend for themselves when life is going through changes or maybe isn’t going as well as it could.

Put simply, there is no shortage of stuff for which to pray.

One part of how I define prayer is the acknowledgment that there is a Supreme Being, a Higher Power, a God whose omnipresence is key to guiding us through life, and especially those parts of it that are burdensome. Today, I am called to mention that which I know relies upon God’s hand to either improve or help accept those burdens. I mention them in with no particular priority, with this exception: in ordinary structured community prayer, Catholics usually pray first for the Church; then for the conditions of the world at large, then that of the nation; followed by special interests of the local community or parish, and lastly, for the sick, the dying, and the recently dead. Then, and only then, do we find time to think of our own situation. Often though, our situations become so large that they preclude any dwelling on the rest of the world beyond a passing thought. I don’t know about you, but while we can – and should – pray for the general peace and welfare of all the world, where does my prayer start affecting action, as it should?

It starts small. It starts within our smallest and most intimate circles of people and conditions we know. It has to. If we don’t have a handle on our own way of life, if we are not as lights shining brightly in our homes, how can we be light-bearers to anyone else?

And so today I offer prayer for what is on my mind, what is on my horizon, as I write.

- For my nephew celebrating his 34th birthday today as he struggles to cope with mistakes he made as a “prodigal” child, and to release him from feeling any sense of guilt from his cousin’s untimely death years ago.

- For my dear wife who, like so many women, gives selflessly to the business and vocation of motherhood and homemaking – so much that they struggle to find time to have to themselves.

- For my son, who must live life coping with who he is because he is autistic; and that he will find a loving, caring community who will accept him without trying to force him into a mold in which he can’t fit.

- For my parents, and especially my mother and mother-in-law, who are now struggling simply to live without physical or emotional pain and in peace.

- For my father and sister, and sister-in-law and her husband, who have undertaken the gargantuan tasks of directly caring for and coping with the illnesses my mother and mother-in-law now live through.

- For my brother, who for the majority of life has struggled with holding on to full-time work.

- That in this year that looks to be filled with many changes, not the least of which include changes in my position at work and the prospect of finding a more suitable home, my family and I will be guided and safeguarded.

- For general peace, good health, security, and happiness for people and families the around the world.

- That people will find God in their hearts.

In life we are taken from heights where we could seemingly touch heaven to depths some call a living hell. May I never lose sight that no matter where I am or what I do, you, God, are with me.

All This and a Bag of Chips - And a Partridge in a Pear Tree

2009-12-31T09:05:00.000-06:00

The Season of Light:
The Twelve Days of Christmas
The Last Day in the Year of Our Lord 2009

The Word:
1 John 2:18-21 ("...many antichrists have appeared, thus we know it is the last hour")
Psalm 96:1-2, 11-13 (The Lord comes to rule the earth)
John 1:1-18 ("In the beginning was the Word...and the Word became flesh, and dwelt among us; and we saw his glory")

Attention, Kmart shoppers: Christmas is not over! No, it only started December 25. We are now in the other part of the Season of Light, the tough part.

Why is it so tough? Didn't we do all we could over the better part of five weeks to get ready for it? Did we not drool enough over all the decorations, light displays, and the plethora of food and sweets? Of course we did.

Most of us ruffled through ads, wrestled through stores, and while we the people might not have gotten skinnier, I'm willing to bet some of our credit cards are noticeably, physically thinner; and our bank balances have gone down, even if our weight may be up a bit. I can't imagine anyone actually spent the $87,400 plus change on the cost of gifts listed in The Twelve Days of Christmas, but I have been known to be wrong. And there are some single gifts in our modern day priced higher than all the drummers, rings, and birds.

I'm not complaining. The Season of Light is a time when we're supposed to open our hearts - and most times that does lead to opening our wallets. But the point of this part of the season - now that radio stations have stopped playing carols and the decorations are coming down faster than they went up - is that our hearts remain open to Emmanuel, "God with(in) us." That could be among the origins of the legendary "New Year's Resolutions." You know - those things for which goals are set on January 1 to accomplish that you will likely abandon by February.

One of my biggest problems is when I attempt something (for example, losing weight - but it's not the only thing) I have this impression that it's something I have to do all by myself. If I find a way to do things with someone else, the change in life pattern becomes much easier. Take, for example, time for prayer. It should be something I am presupposed to do, and have the discipline. I don't. However, quite out of the blue in this year about to end, I was led to daily podcasts of the Divine Office and Bible readings for Mass. I set my alarm to wake me with one of these podcasts, and try to time the others at various points during my day. If I can walk while I pray any of the others, so much the better.

We have a degree of exercise and fitness equipment at home, and I must try to make better use of them alongside my family this year instead of watching the nth rerun of some TV show I happen to like (and I manage to find one every night).

One resolution is being made that will be a tough one to meet, but meet it we must - in the coming year our family will find a new home. There are no major problems with where we are, but there are several reasons when added together make this important. It will take time and a lot of energy, and a lot of hope.

Other things that are in flux in the year ahead are the stuff of future blogging. All I can say is it's going to be one heckuva ride. Once upon a time I would have thought that by 55 the ride would be slowing down. Forget that noise. However, I can honestly say that I'm looking forward to the ride so much that the accompanying challenges don't seem to be as big as I would have put them at other points in life.

Last Sunday it was pointed out that Joseph (Mary's husband and the stepfather of Jesus) was never quoted as saying anything in all the places in the Gospels (mainly Matthew and Luke) where he is mentioned. Still, the narrative clearly shows that he was a man of faith and action, a model for husbands and fathers today. (As long as nobody buries me upside down in order to buy or sell a house, I think we're okay.)

For all the doom and gloom that was spoken about or presented itself in 2009, for all the running around in circles, for all the endless debate and dragging feet through litigation that hallmarks society, in spite of the specter of global warming and the prophecies claiming the world will end any day now (latest date: 12/21/2012), there is still love, joy, hope, and light...

..."and a partridge in a pear tree."

Farewell, 2009; Welcome, 2010! May we bear more light than diffuse it as we move forward, ever forward.

Joyful & Triumphant

2009-12-25T13:48:00.002-06:00

The Season of Light:
Christmas Day, The Nativity of Jesus
The Christmas 'Novena', Day 9

The Word:
(Scripture readings usually proclaimed at Christmas)
Isaiah 62:1-5; Psalm 89:4-5, 16-17, 27, 29; Acts 13:16-17, 22-25; Matthew 1:1-25 (Vigil Mass)
Isaiah 9:1-6; Psalm 96:1-2, 2-3, 11-12, 13; Titus 2:11-14; Luke 2:1-14 (Midnight Mass)
Isaiah 62:11-12; Psalm 97:1, 6, 11-12; Titus 3:4-7; Luke 2:15-20 (Sunrise Service)
Isaiah 52:7-10; Psalm 98:1, 2-3, 3-4, 5-6; Hebrews 1:1-6; John 1:1-18 (Christ's Mass)

Adeste fideles, laeti triumphantes;
Venite, venite in Bethlehem
Natum videte, regem angelorum

Venite adoremus
Venite adoremus
Venite adoremus Dominum

O come, all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant;
O come, ye; O come, ye to Bethlehem!
Come, and behold Him, born the King of angels.

O come, let us adore him,
O come, let us adore him,
O come, let us adore him, Christ the Lord!

Cantet nunc io, chorus angelorum,
Cantet nunc aula caelestium:
Gloria in excelsis Deo!

Venite adoremus
Venite adoremus
Venite adoremus Dominum

Sing, choirs of angels, sing in exultation!
Sing, all ye citizens of heaven above!
Gloria in excelsis Deo! (Glory to God in the highest!)

O come, let us adore him,
O come, let us adore him,
O come, let us adore him, Christ the Lord!

For He alone is worthy
For Christ alone is worthy
Venite adoremus...Christ the Lord!

Yea, Lord, we greet thee, born this happy morning!
Jesus, to Thee be all glory given
Word of the Father, now in flesh appearing
O come, let us adore him
Venite adoremus
O come, let us adore him, Christ the Lord!

--Adeste Fideles (O Come, All Ye Faithful) (18th Century)
Latin text and music - John F. Wade, English text - Frederick Oakeley

And so, the world is turned upside down once again.

A king, redeemer, savior (take your pick or all of the above) is born in the humblest of places.

And...most of the world at the time could have cared less.

Today, it is all too easy to not consider the wide range of unworldly events that have shaped and molded a chunk of humanity for all time. To do without it completely, though, would be sacrilege.

Besides, it would give those who are professed atheists one less major thing to complain about. (Now there's an oxymoron for you - professing that you don't profess to any particular spiritual or faith path, religious congregation, or the like.)

O holy night
The stars are brightly shining
It is the night
Of the dear Savior's birth...

O holy night
When...something, something...Jesus
It is the night
Of the Christmas trees and pies

Jesus is born
And so I get a present
Thank you, Jesus for being born

Fall on your knees
O hear (Can't you hear?)
The angels'...something (VOICES!!)
O night divine
O night when I get presents
O night divine
O night...O holy night

--O Holy Night
19th Century carol
Original text by Adolphe Adam
Parody as sung by Eric Cartman in TV's South Park by Trey Parker and Matt Stone

Okay, this may be a bit of a stretch, but at least Eric thanked Jesus for being born and becoming the source of his holiday expectations. How many of us are thankful today for this time and place? Is it possible that a vast majority of us are so expectant of 'our fair share'(no matter how unfair or unbalanced that seems to someone else) that we fail to acknowledge that it came from somewhere else, no matter how much we may or may feel we earned it or are entitled to it?

When was the last time you thanked God just for being? Or at least, thanked someone in your life for being there for you? And, really meant it?

Today, Christians acknowledge a great gift - Emmanuel, God with us in the flesh and bone and sinews of humanity, and caught up in the web of human existence. For that alone I am thankful - although it took many years and the wonderful gift of loved ones and friends and colleagues for me to only begin to understand and appreciate the depth of such a gift.

The shouting and singing is over for now. Four out of five services in two days can tire a person out. I am truly excited yet calm, thankful and ready to move ahead. Now is the time to see how well that joy and cheer can be spread around.

Love and joy come to you
And to you your Christmas too
And God bless you and send you a Happy New Year
And God send you a Happy New Year!

Ero Cras

2009-12-24T10:33:00.001-06:00

The Season of Light:
Christmas Eve
The Christmas 'Novena', Day 8

The Word:
2 Samuel 7:1-16 ("I will raise up [an heir after David]...I will be a father to him, and he shall be a son to me")
Psalm 89:2-5, 27 & 29 (Forever I will sing the goodness of the Lord)
Luke 1:67-79 ("Blessed be the Lord...he has come to his people and set them free")

Over the last seven days I introduced each of the seven verses of the ancient hymn O Come, O Come Emmanuel. If you've been following, the verses all portray an image of the promised Messiah, according to the prophet Isaiah. Let's recap (Latin words in parentheses):

Come, Wisdom from on high (O Sapientia)
Come, Lord of might (O Adonai)
Come, Rod of Jesse (O Radix Jesse)
Come, Key of David (O Clavis David)
Come, Daystar (O Oriens)
Come, Desired [King] of the Nations (O Rex Gentium)
and, finally, Come, Emmanuel (O Emmanuel).

It is interesting to note that this hymn, though attributed to the 9th Century and in Latin, is similar to a style of Hebrew poetry, in which the first letter of each stanza or verse follows a pattern. (For example, each major section of Psalm 119 begins with successive letters of the Hebrew alphabet.) Taking all the bold letters from last to first, we have "ero cras", which is Latin for "Tomorrow, I will come."

Additionally, there was a practice in the Anglican Church to add one verse that was not part of the original series of antiphons. It, too was in Latin; a loose English translation reads like this:

O Virgin of virgins, how shall this be?
For neither before thee was any like thee, nor shall there be after.
Daughters of Jerusalem, why marvel ye at me?
The thing which ye behold is a divine mystery.

This was added after the previous seven verses. Adding the "V" of virgin (Latin virgo), to the acrostic, we now have "vero cras" (Truly, tomorrow).

Now, you know.

O come, divine Messiah!
The world in silence waits the day
When hope shall sing its triumph,
And sadness flee away.

Dear Savior haste;
Come, come to earth,
Dispel the night and show your face,
And bid us hail the dawn of grace.

O come, divine Messiah!
The world in silence waits the day
When hope shall sing its triumph,
And sadness flee away.

O Christ, whom nations sigh for,
Whom priest and prophet long foretold,
Come break the captive fetters;
Redeem the long-lost fold.

Dear Savior haste;
Come, come to earth,
Dispel the night and show your face,
And bid us hail the dawn of grace.

O come, divine Messiah!
The world in silence waits the day
When hope shall sing its triumph,
And sadness flee away.

You come in peace and meekness,
And lowly will your cradle be;
All clothed in human weakness
Shall we your Godhead see.

Dear Savior haste;
Come, come to earth,
Dispel the night and show your face,
And bid us hail the dawn of grace.

O come, divine Messiah!
The world in silence waits the day
When hope shall sing its triumph,
And sadness flee away.

--O Come, Divine Messiah
16th Century French carol

Tonight the stars shine for the children
And light the way for dreams to fly
Tonight our love comes wrapped in ribbons
The world is right and hopes are high
And from a dark and frosted window
A child appears to search the sky
Because it's Christmas, because it's Christmas

Tonight belongs to all the children
Tonight their joy rings through the air
And so we pray God's tender blessings
To all the children everywhere
To see the smiles and hear the laughter
A time to give, a time to share
Because it's Christmas, for now and forever
For all of the children and for the children in us all

--Because It's Christmas (1990)
Barry Manilow

This night we pray
Our lives will show
This dream we have
Each child still knows

We are waiting
We have not forgotten

On this night, on this night
On this very Christmas night
On this night, on this night
On this merry Christmas night

--Christmas Canon (1998)
Words: Paul O'Neill, Music: adaptation of the Kanon by Johann Pachelbel
as recorded by the Trans-Siberian Orchestra

Tomorrow, while all may seem the same, the world will once more be turned upside down.

Until then, may your God be with you...

Come, Emmanuel! Hail Festivus!

2009-12-23T13:16:00.000-06:00

The Season of Light:
The Christmas 'Novena', Day 7

The Word:
Malachi 3:1-4, 23-24 ("I am sending my messenger to prepare the way before me")
Psalm 25:4-5, 8-9, 10 & 14 (Your redemption is near at hand)
Luke 1:57-66 (Elizabeth gives birth to a son; "His name is John")

Veni, veni Emmanuel!
Captivum solve Israel!
Qui gemit in exilio,
Privatus Dei Filio.

Gaude, gaude!!
Emmanuel nascetur pro te, Israel!!!

O come, O come, Emmanuel,
And ransom captive Israel,
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear.

Rejoice, Rejoice!!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel!!!

--O Come, O Come Emmanuel (verse one)

Isaiah had prophesied:
"Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Look, the young woman is with child and shall bear a son, and shall name him Emmanuel (which means 'God is with us')" (Isaiah 7:14).

Christ climbed down
from his bare Tree
this year
and ran away to where
there were no rootless Christmas trees
hung with candy canes and breakable stars

Christ climbed down
from his bare Tree
this year
and ran away to where
there were no gilded Christmas trees
and no tinsel Christmas trees
and no tinfoil Christmas trees
and no pink plastic Christmas trees
and no gold Christmas trees
and no black Christmas trees
and no powder-blue Christmas trees
hung with electric candles
and encircled by tin electric trains
and clever cornball relatives

Christ climbed down
from his bare Tree
this year
and ran away to where
no intrepid Bible salesmen
covered the territory
in two-tone Cadillacs
and where no Sears Roebuck creches
complete with plastic babe in manger
arrived by parcel post
the babe by special delivery
and where no televisioned Wise Men
praised the Lord Calvert Whiskey

Christ climbed down
from his bare Tree
this year
and ran away to where
no fat handshaking stranger
in a red flannel suit
and a fake white beard
went around passing himself off
as some sort of North Pole saint
crossing the desert to Bethlehem
Pennsylvania
in a Volkswagen sled
drawn by rollicking Adirondack reindeer
with German names
and bearing sacks of Humble Gifts
from Saks Fifth Avenue
for everybody's imagined Christ child

Christ climbed down
from his bare Tree
this year
and ran away to where
no Bing Crosby carolers
groaned of a tight Christmas
and where no Radio City angels
iceskated wingless
thru a winter wonderland
into a jingle bell heaven
daily at 8:30
with Midnight Mass Matinees

Christ climbed down
from his bare Tree
this year
and softly stole away into
some anonymous soul
He waits again
an unimaginable and impossibly
Immaculate Reconception
the very craziest
of Second Comings

--Lawrence Ferlinghetti, from "A Coney Island of the Mind (1958)

My take on this, you ask? Why did I post it??

There's few who will disagree with me in saying that Christmas is a very important festival. However, it's not the only one observed in the Season of Light - and it and all the others are all interconnected. Consider this while I refresh you with one of the relative newcomers to the season, being celebrated today:

Talk about your "hallmark" holidays - Festivus is an annual holiday created by writer Dan O'Keefe and introduced into popular culture by his son Daniel, a scriptwriter for the TV show Seinfeld. Although the original Festivus took place in February 1966 as a celebration of O'Keefe's first date with his wife, Deborah, many people now celebrate the holiday on December 23, as depicted on the December 18, 1997 Seinfeld episode "The Strike". According to O'Keefe, the name Festivus "just popped into his head." The holiday includes novel practices such as the "Airing of Grievances", in which each person tells everyone else all the ways they have disappointed him or her over the past year. Also, after the Festivus meal, the "Feats of Strength" are performed, involving wrestling the head of the household to the floor, with the holiday ending only if the head of the household is actually pinned. These conventions originated with the TV episode. The original holiday featured far more peculiar practices, as detailed in the younger Daniel O'Keefe's book The Real Festivus, which provides a first-person account of an early version of the Festivus holiday as celebrated by the O'Keefe family, and how O'Keefe amended or replaced details of his father's invention to create the Seinfeld episode.

Some people, influenced or inspired by Seinfeld, now celebrate the holiday in varying degrees of seriousness; the spread of Festivus in the real world is chronicled in the book Festivus: The Holiday for the Rest of Us. (Wikipedia)

Hey, folks, don't get me wrong - but it seems to me that the "Airing of Grievances" is not limited to one day in the calendar. God be praised if it were!

I think a few seriously missed the boat here. If you needed to celebrate "a non-denominational holiday" because you're "frustrated or jaded with the commercialism and pressure surrounding" the Season of Light, there are countless resources available to you. Watch The Grinch or one of the numerous versions of Dickens' Christmas Carol - better yet, read them - and while at it, read some of the ancient writings associated with the holidays we've been preparing for.

And on the other hand...
Consider the etymology of the word (again, from Wikipedia).
Festivus (with long "i", festīvus) is a Latin word, but not the name of a festival: in one reference it is said to mean "festive". A scholarly work on the etymology of the word by Dr. Brian A. Krostenko summarized in Festivus: The Holiday for the Rest of Us, concludes that in ancient Rome the word evolved, referring at times to the way the common folk would misbehave on official religious holidays, and at other times to a certain snooty attitude amongst the higher classes. It is possible that the elder O'Keefe, who was studying ancient rituals, knew this etymology and adapted it for his family's holiday. The English word festive derives from festīvus, which in turn derives from festus "joyous; holiday, feast day".

So maybe Festivus can be a jump start for those still stuck in the rut of preparation. Something bizarre and out of left-field, unexpected, that can divert our focus from the mundane...

..Until you consider that the birth of Jesus, as given in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, is about as bizarre and out of left-field as anything television sitcom writers can think up. A virgin giving birth to a child? The husband is not the father? They're traveling to the city of the foster-father's tribal origin to be counted in a census by an occupying foreign power? The baby's born in a stable because nobody has the compassion to give a woman in labor a decent place (by 1st Century standards) to stay? (Where was the universal health-care program?)

Still, the day has become part of our culture, and - whether or not you celebrate it, you can be identified with it.

Tomorrow, Christmas Eve; Day 8 of the 'novena.' One more 'secret' regarding the 'O Antiphons'...and you thought I exhausted the subject.

One of us is crying
As our hopes and dreams
Are led away in chains
And we're left all alone
And one of us is dying
As are love
Is slowly lowered in the grave
Oh, and we're left on our own

But for all of us who journey
Through the dark abyss of loneliness
There comes a great announcement
"We are never alone"
For the One who made each heart that breaks
The Giver of each breath we take
Has come to earth
And given hope its birth

(chorus:)
And our God is with us, Emmanuel
And He's come to save us, Emmanuel
And we will never face life alone
Now that God has made Himself known
As Father and Friend, with us through the end
Emmanuel

He spoke with prophets' voices
And He showed Himself in a cloud of fire
But no one had seen His face
Until the One most holy
Revealed to us His perfect heart's desire
And left His rightful place

And in one glorious moment
All eternity was shaken
As God broke through the darkness
That had kept us apart
And with love that conquers loneliness
And hope that fills all emptiness
He came to earth to show our worth
(chorus)

So rejoice!! O, rejoice!!!
Emmanuel has come!!!
(chorus)

--Our God Is With Us (1995)
Steven Curtis Chapman

Come, Desired King of the Nations

2009-12-22T08:33:00.002-06:00

The Season of Light:
The Christmas 'Novena', Day 6

The Word:
1 Samuel 1:24-28 (Hannah consecrates her son Samuel to the Lord's service)
1 Samuel 2:1-8 (My heart exults in the Lord, my savior)
Luke 1:46-56 (The Magnificat: "The Almighty has done great things for me; holy is his name")

Veni, Veni, Rex gentium,
veni, Redemptor omnium,
Ut salvas tuos famulos
Peccati sibi conscios.

Gaude, gaude!
Emmanuel nascetur pro te, Israel!

O come, Desire of nations, bind
In one the hearts of humankind;
Bid Thou our sad divisions cease,
And be Thyself our Prince of Peace.

Rejoice! Rejoice!!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel!

--O Come, O Come Emmanuel (verse seven)

In my series of reflections last year, I wrote:
The Grinch couldn't stop Christmas from coming...but he nearly shut it out of his heart and life. (So also went the tale of Ebeneezer Scrooge.) How much effort do we put into preparation, and just what is it we prepare for?

There are some who speak artistically about the thought of having Christmas every day. It would not work the way we drive ourselves to the edge of our sanity to prepare for December 25. Having said that, though, it is possible to maintain the Spirit of Christmas in an ongoing manner. Remember what it is we truly celebrate...and be a reflection of that Light. Remember what it is we truly long for...and seek it sincerely not only for ourselves, but for all around us.

Today, though, I am prompted to write on 'kingship.'

Last year, Americans elected a new president. Given the global response to the result, one could have spoken of Barack Obama as the "desired one of the nations" and not be speaking falsely.

Still, as we all know, the President cannot bring his goals to fruition without the cooperation of the rest of the government and the support of the people whom he serves. His plans are scrutinized and criticized. Support in the legislature is tenuous. And everywhere, the bottom line seems to be: What is the ultimate cost? And just who will pay it?

But...is this where our hearts should be focused?

Do we look so much at the utopia we attempt to build on our own that we lose sight of what is more important...what really matters? Have we forgotten that men and women, paupers and kings, did what they had to do and not tally the cost - even if it meant their lives?

That a 'desired' king would come is a universal hope. And that a desired king actually came is a universal truth; yet some seem to forget that because kingship is often conferred on those who don't fit the image or the uniform. I, too, miss this - and the only thing I can say about it is I often know I've missed it the split-second after I've put my foot in my mouth. There is a reason to be "watchful and ready." Today, I pray that those who seem lost in the details will have their eyes opened to see, their ears open to listen, and their hearts ready to receive. Everything else...can wait.

Come, Radiant Dawn, O Daystar (O Oriens); Welcome, Yule!

2009-12-21T10:30:00.000-06:00

The Season of Light:
The Festival of Yule, the Winter Solstice
(Sun enters Capricorn at 11:46 AM CST)
The Christmas 'Novena', Day 5

The Word:
Song of Songs 2:8-14 ("My lover comes, springing across the mountains, leaping over the hills")
or Zephaniah 3:14-18 (The Lord your God is in your midst)
Psalm 33:2-3, 11-12, 20-21 (Exult, you just, in the Lord)
Luke 1:39-45 (Elizabeth: "Who am I that the mother of my Lord should come to me?)

Veni, Veni O Oriens!
Solare nos adveniens,
Noctis depelle nebulas,
Dirasque noctis tenebras.

Gaude, Gaude!
Emmanuel nascetur pro te, Israel!

O come, thou Day-star (day-spring), come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here;
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death's dark shadows put to flight.

Rejoice, rejoice!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel!

--O Come, O Come Emmanuel (verse four)

Welcome, Yule!
It is no coincidence that the verse O Oriens falls on the day of the Winter Solstice. The northern European festival of Yule and the Roman festival of Saturnalia were both connected with the "rebirth" of the Sun, marking the end of decreasing daylight. When the celebration of "Christ's Mass" was instituted in the 3rd Century, the birth of the Son fell at the same time as the birth of the Sun. Christ is also described in ancient prayers and canticles as the "Morning Star that never sets."

There is no need to be afraid; on the fifth day our Lord will come to save us.
--Antiphon for Vespers (Morning Prayer) from the Divine Office

And for the next three days, the Sun will appear to remain in the southern sky, as daylight doesn't quite begin to increase.

Many of the customs associated with the ancient winter festivals have survived to this day. The burning of the Yule Log, and the singing of carols have long been associated with this day, and have also come to be associated with Christmas, even if it predates the Christian Era.

"He must increase, while I must decrease" (John 3:30).
This quote, attributed to John the Baptist and referring to Jesus, is also drawn from more ancient symbolism - the Oak King and Holly King. Each governs half of the year (the birth of John the Baptist occurs on June 24); the Oak King (Christ) rules the increase of the year, while the Holly King (John) influences the decrease, urging all to "prepare!"

There is much, much more to this special week than can be given time to compile. Suffice to know that each culture strives to seek out the Light, and the Source which bears it.

It is indeed "the most wonderful time of the year," even amidst the cold and snows of winter just beginning. This week, "Light sings, all over the world."

Come, Key of David (O Clavis)

2009-12-20T16:22:00.001-06:00

The Season of Light:
The Fourth Sunday of Advent
The Christmas 'Novena', Day 4

The Word:
Micah 5:1-4 (From Bethlehem the King shall come)
Psalm 80:2-3, 15-16, 18-19 (Lord, let us see your face and we shall be saved)
Hebrews 10:5-10 (The establishment of a new covenant, in Christ)
Luke 1:39-45 (Mary visits Elizabeth: "Blest are you among women, and blest is the fruit of your womb")

Veni, Clavis Davidica,
Regna reclude caelica,
Fac iter tutum superum,
Et claude vias inferum.

Gaude, gaude!
Emmanuel nascetur pro te, Israel.

O come, Thou Key of David, come,
And open wide our heavenly home;
Make safe the way that leads on high,
And close the path to misery.

Rejoice, rejoice!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel!

--O Come, O Come Emmanuel (verse five)

A key is an important item to humanity. We use them as means to enter things we secure - our homes, cars, boxes or cabinets holding important papers or other valuables. Those who possessed keys were considered powerful. Not long ago, people were honored in the community by being given 'keys to the city' for their charitable work. Even the laughable "key to the executive washroom" indicates a perk; a special status.

Isaiah had prophesied that the one who would save Israel would have "place(d) on his shoulder the key of the house of David; he shall open, and no one shall shut; he shall shut, and no one shall open" (Isaiah 22:22).

In the evolution of their craft, locksmiths have been able to develop locks that are slightly different for offices and classrooms. These can also be opened by a single 'master' key - this master can open any door in the building. The Christmas event gave humanity such a master key, one that has the power to open any lock. Sometimes, though, our lives make it difficult for our hearts to be unlocked. In Charles Dickens' classic holiday tale A Christmas Carol,, Jacob Marley's ghost is bound with chains and lock boxes and even some keys that don't appear to be able to open anything. His heart, and that of Scrooge his partner, had been locked to everyone.

Today's Gospel passage tells of Mary, now pregnant, traveling to visit her aging cousin Elizabeth, who is herself pregnant. Though Luke doesn't directly state it, at an 'advanced' age Elizabeth might have required extra pre-natal care. At the very least, Mary could do what Zechariah, temporarily stricken deaf and mute, could not. Mary's heart was always unlocked.

May we find the ways to unlock that which may be holding us back from the call to service of God and neighbor, at Christmastime and all the year.

Come, Rod of Jesse's Stem (O Radix Jesse)

2009-12-19T13:37:00.002-06:00

The Season of Light:
The Christmas 'Novena', Day 3

The Word: Judges 13:2-7, 24-25 (The birth of Samson: "He shall be consecrated to God, from the womb until the day of his death")
Psalm 71:3-6, 16-17 (You are my hope, O Lord; my mouth is filled with your praise, and I will sing of your glory)
Luke 1:5-25 (The archangel Gabriel tells Zechariah that he will be the father of a child 'great in the sight of the Lord')

The readings today bring to mind many of the progeny promised throughout the whole of the Bible: not only Samson, but Ishmael (Genesis 16:7-16), Isaac (Genesis 18:1-15), Samuel (1 Samuel 1:1-20), John the Baptizer (Luke 1:5-25), and finally, Jesus (Luke 1:26-38). Jesus, the 'descendant' of King David, is the rod, or shoot, or flower of Jesse's stem (Jesse being the father of David, (1 Samuel 16:1-13). One must wonder at this point that even though our featured hymn is accredited to the 9th Century, its origins are more likely much older and obscure.

Veni, O Jesse virgula,
Ex hostis tuos ungula,
De specu tuos tartari
Educ et antro barathri.

Gaude, gaude!
Emmanuel nascetur pro te, Israel.

O come, thou Rod of Jesse's stem,
From ev'ry foe deliver them
That trust Thy mighty pow'r to save,
And give them vict'ry o'er the grave.

Rejoice, rejoice!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

--O Come, O Come Emmanuel (verse three)

A year ago, these were my thoughts on the day:
The evangelists Matthew and Luke went to lengths to prove that Jesus was the promised Messiah, a direct descendant of David, Israel's greatest king. David was the youngest son of Jesse, and by Old Testament accounts, the 'runt of the litter.' Yet it was David who went on to greatness, and his brothers into obscurity. As David came 'out of nowhere', so to speak, so did Jesus. We really don't know his exact moment of birth. In a year like this one passing, could our longing for anything better (economy, weather, leadership) be more well placed than at Christmas?

And a year later, though some things may seem to have improved, our 'longing for better' remains, especially where the big picture is concerned.

O Flower of Jesse's stem,
you have been raised up as a sign for all peoples;
rulers stand silent in your presence;
the nations bow down in worship before you.
Come; let nothing keep you from coming to our aid.
--Antiphon from Evening Vespers in the Divine Office

The earth is your mother; she holds you.
The sky is your father; he protects you.
Sleep, sleep.
Rainbow is your sister; she loves you.
The winds are your brothers; they sing to you.
Sleep, sleep.
We are together always.
We are together always.
There was never a time...when this was not so.
--Native American song/prayer

Come, Lord of Power and Might

2009-12-18T07:17:00.002-06:00

The Season of Light:
The Christmas 'Novena', Day 2

The Word:
Jeremiah 23:5-8 (God will raise up a righteous shoot to David; he will be called 'The Lord our justice') Psalm 72: 1-2, 12-13, 18-19 (He shall have pity for the lowly and the poor)
Matthew 1:18-25 (Gabriel to Joseph: 'Do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife')

The will of God be done by us,
The law of God be kept by us,
Our wayward will controlled by us,
Our tongue-in-cheek be held by us,
Repentance timely made by us,
Christ's passion understood by us,
Our sinful nature shunned by us,
Much on the End be mused by us,
And death be blessed found by us,
With angel's music heard by us,
And God's high praises sung by us,
Forever and for aye.

--from "Blessed Be the Holy Will of God" in Treasury of Irish Religious Verse

Veni, Veni Adonai!
Qui populo in Sinai
Legem dedisti vertice,
In Majestate gloriae.

Gaude, gaude!
Emmanuel nascetur pro te, Israel.

O come, O come, great Lord of might,
Who to Thy tribes on Sinai’s height
In ancient times once gave the law
In cloud and majesty and awe.

Rejoice, Rejoice!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

--O Come, O Come Emmanuel (verse six)

On today's birthday list: Charles Wesley and Michael Binsfeld. Everybody should know the former and the latter was my pastor for eleven years.

I have always been cognizant of the need to adapt liturgy to fit special occasions. For example, when Memorial Day rolls around, I would expect most of the patriotic hymns to get an airing. It is good to know that Charles Wesley did well enough in writing over 2000 hymns (and published over 5500), many of which maintain popularity across denominational lines. That, too, seems to be important in the American church.

But one of the ironies of adaptable liturgy is that it occasionally becomes self-serving rather than God-worshiping. Trying to somehow incorporate "Happy Birthday To You" (as was an unofficial custom for about 12 years on the Sunday closest to 12/18) and be discreet about it was a challenge. I don't know that I ever really got past this subtle nuance.

A loose-structured worship service has its advantages. One of the reasons people attend the church or synagogue of their choice is (hopefully) an opportunity for God to reach them in a personal way. It's taken me 55 years to get to the place I am now, and I am still in the process. I am far from perfect. There are days when I forget and miss the potential for that encounter. There are other days when it stares me in the face and I walk past it. These last days before Christmas, we await God's coming to us...do we at least try to go to meet him?

Come, O Wisdom

2009-12-17T08:08:00.001-06:00

The Season of Light:
The Christmas 'Novena', Day 1

The Word: Genesis 49:2-10 (The scepter of royalty shall never depart from the lineage of Judah) Psalm 72:1-4, 7-8, 17 (Justice shall flourish in his time, and fullness of peace forever)
Luke 7:18-23 ("Blessed is the one who takes no offense in me")
or Matthew 1:1-17 (Matthew's genealogy of Jesus as descendant of Abraham and David)

Christmas and the eight days preceding it constitute a novena, a nine-day period of more intense prayer by the Church as it prepares for the celebration of a great festival at its conclusion. A year ago I wrote a brief set of meditations based on the 9th century Latin hymn Veni, veni Emmanuel (O Come, O Come Emmanuel). It went out to a select few people at the time, but I found some of what was written very interesting when it finally came together; so I thought it would be a good thing to post it in a more public place this year, I hope the reader finds genuine meaning in these words.

Veni, O Sapientia,
Quae hic disponis omnia,
Veni, viam prudentiae
Ut doceas et gloriae.

Gaude, Gaude!
Emmanuel nascetur pro te, Israel.

O come, Thou Wisdom from on high,
Who orderest all things mightily;
To us the path of knowledge show,
And teach us in her ways to go.

Rejoice, Rejoice!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

--O Come, O Come Emmanuel, verse two

Divine wisdom has been imparted to humanity throughout all time. This day reminds us that to understand where we are, we must look at where we've been.

On December 17, 1538, Pope Paul III excommunicated King Henry VIII of England from the Church.
Talk about your prime example of a man who literally through wisdom out the window with both hands in his quest to sire a male heir as successor to the British throne!

An Eastern Orthodox liturgy offers us reminders of others of our ancestors in faith who embraced wisdom:

Let us sing a hymn of praise to all the assemble of the ancestors: Adam, Enoch, Noah, Melchisedech, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, Moses, Aaron, Joshua, and Samuel, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and Daniel, Elijah and Elisha and all the other fathers; the holy women made strong in the days of old by the might of your strength, O Lord: Hannah, Judith, Deborah, Hulda, Jael, Esther, Sarah, Miriam, Rachel, Rebecca, Ruth. You shone as heaven's lights upon the earth, enkindling the light of piety. You called forth the choir of all creation as you sang to the one who saves all from temptation.

Wisdom indeed.

Christmas, Don't Be Late (Even If I Am)

2009-12-16T10:42:00.000-06:00

The Season of Light:
The Third Week of Advent

Sunday's Word:
Zephaniah 3:14-18 (The Lord will exult with you, over you; he will renew you by his love)
Isaiah 12:2-6 (Among you is the Holy One of Israel)
Philippians 4:4-7 (The Lord is near)
Luke 3:10-18 (What, then, must we do?)

Answer: Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say, again I say, rejoice!

Something short and (hopefully, sweet):

Christmas, Christmas time is near
Time for joys and time for cheer
We've been good, but we can't last
Hurry, Christmas - hurry fast!

Peace and truth are all we need
Grant to us with all your speed
We can hardly stand the wait
Please, Christmas, don't be late!

(Alvin, you were a little flat that time - watch it.)

--Christmas Don't Be Late (1957)
Ross Bagdasarian (with a little inspiration from above and alteration by yours truly)

On the Subject of Waiting

2009-12-12T14:17:00.002-06:00

The Season of Light
A "Light Bulb" Experience on What Advent Is All About

I've heard many a pastor and/or theologian speak at length on the liturgical season of Advent, the two-thirds of December meant to prepare us for the celebration of Christmas. Nothing quite puts a handle on it. I had an “Aha!” moment this morning that comes closer than anything else.

About six weeks ago, my wife was going about her daily work – homeschooling our son and keeping our home in order – when a maintenance worker knocked on the door of our apartment. He had come unannounced to check out our bathroom, most notably the bathtub. The maintenance worker didn't speak much English, and my wife understands very little Spanish; but the gist of what transpired indicated that there was a problem with water seeping from the tub enclosure somehow and dripping through into the apartment below. The worker put some caulk around places where he thought it was needed, and then told my wife that sometime soon more major repair work would have to be done.

My wife phoned me at work right after the maintenance guy left. What was going on? We weren't experiencing any water problems – at least not with the tub. So I placed a call to our leasing office and confirmed what was happening. Yes, the bathroom would have to go through this major repair work. It was to be done sometime over the course of the next week or so.

We made some contingency plans. As we get older, it's important not to be far from a working bathroom, or at the very least some way to flush wastes from the body as God designed it. We were assured we'd have access to a bathroom in a vacant apartment while work was being done.

And so we waited. The ten days passed, and no strange knocks at the door. Three weeks passed and we were still waiting.

At the beginning of the month, I had to visit the leasing office to pay the rent. While I was there, I brought up the subject. Maybe things had improved and the repairs weren't needed after all. I wanted to get some more information I could give my wife. Yes, the work was still needed and would be done. Okay – just give us a heads-up so we're not half-dressed should they arrive early in the morning.

At the beginning of this week, roughly a month after we heard work was to be done, the contractors came to do their own inspection, to determine how much work was needed. The work was to begin early the next morning. Yet there was still one 'gotcha' – the weather. A major winter storm was coming through, and it might delay the workers from showing up. As promised, though, they arrived and work began. I left for work shortly after they started. When I got home they were still there. The big work was done, but someone would be back the next day to finish.

We now have a very nice looking tub enclosure – one that brightens up the room and makes sound bounce everywhere. (The old enclosure was formica or plastic sheeting, the new one is ceramic tiled.) We should no longer have to worry about dripping on our neighbors below. Also – any material that could have been rotting or collecting mold due to water damage was removed, thus making our little corner of the world a better, safer place for us as well as our neighbors.

When we first heard the news we felt bad because we had no way of knowing we were making life more difficult for our neighbors. We wanted very much for the repairs to take place quickly, and the waiting didn't make things any easier. But the assurance that we weren't forgotten and the workers would come made those contingency plans doable.

We really do feel out-of-sorts when the consequences of our actions have been harmful to others. We might have been held accountable and unable to offer recompense. But help was sought, and help came. It involved preparation and readiness, for it was uncertain when the workers would come. And when the work was completed, we are left with something much better than it was; not only for ourselves, but for those around us who might not even know we had work done.

Advent is much like this episode from daily life. We have hurt, and are hurting. We come to an understanding of how what we do affects others. We have hope and believe that a broken world will be made whole. And we wait. And we watch. And we are as ready as we can be. When the Messiah comes, we will be interested in the work he does. And we will remember his ways, for in his wake, a new and brighter creation remains, one that belongs to everyone, everywhere.

A Sackful of Joy, and St. Nicholas(es) Too

2009-12-06T19:04:00.001-06:00

The Season of Light:
The Second Sunday of Advent
The Feast of St. Nicholas, 4th Century Bishop

The Word:
Baruch 5:1-9 (Jerusalem - God will show your splendor)
Psalm 126:1-6 (The Lord has done great things for us; we are filled with joy)
Philippians 1:4-11 (Show yourselves sinless and without blame in the day of Christ)
Luke 3:1-6 (All shall see the salvation of God)

First, I have to beg forgiveness. I was hoping - and in a way promised - that I'd post a daily reflection this season, and they'd be fresh; not repostings of what I wrote a year ago. Sadly, that's just not going to happen. I'm much busier this year than last, and I don't have nearly the same amount of 'idle' time. It is only right to mention, however, that some of that previously idle time has been spent in daily personal and private prayer and reflection - specifically, the Divine Office (also known as the Liturgy of the Hours). Most of the rest have been spent in work-related projects - my employer is going through an elaborate systems conversion, and I'm part of the implementation team.

But this Season of Light has not gone without moments of joy, and a surprise or two.

I finally managed to get my car in for some much needed repair - tonight it's sporting two new tires which will do their best to assure me they won't go nearly flat every fourth day. (That is a blessed relief, but it is still a joy!)

Because of all the timing constraints, we elected to keep the decorating simple this year. Our decorations are stored in a locked room in our apartment building, and it requires getting someone from our leasing office with enough time to unlock the room twice (once to pull out the storage bins, and another to put them back - and this is done at both the beginning and the end of the season). My dear wife has a few collectible holiday pieces - some of the village miniature houses and some international Santas. When it's decided to display them, it's a trick to get them all up. So we bought some poinsettias and some lights at Home Depot's "Black Friday" sale (the only concession to that day's madness), and that was that.

Because of the time involved to get the tires installed today, I had planned to take the family to an earlier dinner at a buffet restaurant in our area, and then visit one of the more spectacular neighborhood holiday light displays nearby.

On our way there, as we still had a little time, we stopped at a thrift store in the area. There are usually some inexpensive pieces of bric-a-brac for augmenting the decor. Actually, I didn't expect to find much. But my son's suggestion and my wife's eyes spotted a windfall - a cluster of those International Santas (many of which are not in her collection) at a mere pittance. I couldn't say no to this. Supposedly an old Italian tradition dictates that on St Nicholas' feast day you should gift your sweetheart (Nicholas is the patron of brides and children, amongst other things), so the find was quite fortuitous.

Oh - the buffet was still quite crowded, even some 45 minutes later. Somewhere in our collective minds we get the idea that this type of restaurant is a good value at roughly $10 per person. Considering the choices and how we manage to stuff ourselves, I am not so sure. We spent the same amount at a nice (and not busy) sit-down restaurant and felt just as full without the umpteen trips to the dessert bar. We saw some other light displays. Maybe they won't win any awards, maybe they're not 'extreme'; but they remind us of what is ahead.

God didn't come to Earth where one might have expected him or wanted to find him. And while there was fanfare from a choir of angels, and a light from a star in the sky brighter than observers of the time had ever seen, much of that went unnoticed by the general townsfolk in Bethlehem.

I'm not sure how the Fourth Century bishop of what is now Turkey would react to his having become the archetype of our modern Santa Claus. Certainly in his own lifetime he demonstrated the many traits that have been made legend to this day. His joy came in being able to give of himself to others, something all the various legends behind the many international faces of Sinterklaas, Pere Noel, and Jolly Old St. Nick is meant to remind us.

Our eyes are blinded by the holiness you bear -
The bishop's robe, the mitre and the cross of gold obscure the simple man within the saint.
Strip off your glory, Nicholas, and speak!

Across the tremendous bridge of sixteen hundred years
I come to stand in worship with you
As I stood among my faithful congregation long ago.
All who knelt beside me then are gone.
Their names are dust, their tombs are grass and clay,
Yet still their shining seed of faith survives in you!
It weathers time, it springs again in you!
With you it stands like forest oak
Or withers with the grasses underfoot.
Preserve the living faith for which your ancestors fought!
For faith was won by centuries of sacrifice
And many martyrs died, that you might worship God.

Help us, Lord! to find the hidden road
That leads from love to greater Love,
From faith to greater Faith.
Strengthen us, O Lord!
Screw up our strength to serve Thee with simplicity.

---Opening to Benjamin Britten's cantata "St. Nicolas", Op. 42 (1948)
libretto by Eric Crozier

The First to Be Called

2009-11-30T10:50:00.000-06:00

The Season of Light:
The Feast of St. Andrew, Apostle and Martyr

The Season of Light contains many special days recalling people who were called by the Lord. The feast of Andrew is on the cusp of the season - sometimes it falls during Advent and sometimes it doesn't.

Andrew was a disciple of John the Baptist and is attributed to have said upon seeing Jesus for the first time, "Behold, the Lamb of God!" (cf. John 1:38-40). He was instrumental in introducing his brother Simon (Peter); who would likewise follow Jesus. When the multitudes were miraculously fed, starting the Bread of Life Discourse (John 6), it was Andrew who pointed out the boy carrying the five loaves and two fish.

Following the Great Commission and the first Pentecost, Andrew ended up in Patras in Achaia (modern-day Greece). There he ran into resistance from the proconsul, Aegeas. Aegeas ultimately sentenced Andrew to death by crucifixion - but in Andrew's case, he was bound to an X-shaped cross by ropes and hung there two days before he died.

According to the ancient monastic Office of Readings:
Andrew was led to the place of martyrdom, and as soon as he saw the cross he cried out, "O precious cross, which the members of my Lord have made so honorable, how long have I desired you! How fervently have I loved you! How constantly have I sought you! And now that you have come to me, how my soul is attracted to you. Take me from here and unite me to my master, that as by you he redeemed me, so by you he may take me to himself." Then he was fastened to the cross, where he continued to live for two days, not ceasing to preach the faith of Christ. Finally, he passed into the presence of him, the likeness of whose death he had loved so well.

His life was not his own, but that of his Master.
He was put to doing and suffering, sent by Christ and ultimately laid aside for Him.
He had nothing save the Word of Christ, but in this he had everything.
And, he freely gave all, including his life, to the will of God.

Light Sings

2009-11-29T18:16:00.000-06:00

The Season of Light:
The First Sunday of Advent

The Word:
Jeremiah 33:14-16 (I will cause a good seed to spring forth from David)
Psalm 25:4-14 (You are God my Savior, and for you I wait all day long)
1 Thessalonians 3:12 - 4:2 (When Christ comes may he strengthen your hearts in holiness)
Luke 21:25-36 (Your redemption is near at hand)

In a recent post I defined the timeframe of what I call the Season of Light; generally that is from the First Sunday of Advent through the traditional date of Epiphany, January 6. Apparently I'm not alone in this assessment - a Google search rendered several hits that at least suggested others agree to some degree.

The Season of Light is symbolized by the the candles of the Advent wreath, the menorah of Hanukkah, the Yule Log; in the lights we use to decorate greenery and our homes; and in the legendary Star of Bethlehem, one of the heralds of the birth of Jesus, the Messiah. It is aptly placed at the onset of winter in the Northern Hemisphere, when there is less sunlight.

Themes of justice are prevalent as we await the coming of the King. To be a Light-Bearer, one will do what he/she can to adjust the imbalance between peoples. Over this first week I will post a couple of examples. I think I need to do that, as suddenly I have come to something of a crossroads of reality.

I had an interesting conversation with my dear wife after celebrating Thanksgiving with her family. There are now several new additions in the extended family, and all are struggling under the weight of the cost of living and the state of the economy. I've never considered myself to be financially well-off, but over the course of our conversation we realized that among that half of the extended family, we're the most affluent. Honestly, that scares me a bit. There's a correlation to affluence and influence, one that is all too often misused.

While Christmas is nearly here, and Advent is the gateway, it is too easy to miss both by not celebrating one or the other. This year, our little family trio have set a goal to celebrate Advent. We want to experience much, and will do our best to do so simply, so that the resources we might otherwise use can be offered to those who need it, whether they be family, friends, or the passerby. It means being careful. It means being watchful and ready, and making choices - sometimes on short notice. It's the foundation of what will hopefully turn out to be a truly, wonderfully, warm and bright season.

Refrain:
God of all power
You kindle the stars
Spark in your people
Spark in us a season of light

God turns now to the world
To see if anyone will uphold him
For fools rage in the land
They turn away from God and his Word
(Refrain)

The nations go astray
They crumble ev'ry road, ev'ry pathway
They lay waste to the land
They trample on our dreams for the future
(Refrain)

The heedless have their day
They take away the breath of our children
Lord, when will they accord
Lord, when will they accord with your Word?
(Refrain)

The Lord will hear the just
He will overthrow the plans of the reckless
The Lord will give us blessings
And then shall we rejoice and be glad
(Refrain)

--A Season of Light (1985)
Paul Lisicky
verses based on Psalm 53

In Praise and High Thanksgiving

2009-11-26T13:07:00.002-06:00

Thanksgiving Day (US)

The Word:
Sirach 50:22-24 (Now thank we all our God)
Psalm 113:1-8 (Blessed be the name of the Lord, forever)
1 Corinthians 1:3-9 (I give thanks always to God for you)
Luke 17:11-19 ("Ten lepers were cured - where are the other nine? Was there no one to return and give thanks to God except this Samaritan?")

Other passages:
Deuteronomy 8:7-18; 1 Kings 8:55-61; Isaiah 63:7-9, Joel 2:21-27; Zephaniah 3:14-15;
Ephesians 1:3-14; Colossians 3:12-17, 1 Timothy 6:6-19;
Psalm 67:2-8; 1 Chronicles 29:10-12; Psalm 138:1-5; Psalm 145:2-11;
Mark 5:18-20; Luke 12:15-21

Thanksgiving Day has a great significance in its history as a celebration in America. Evidence holds that what most of us look to as the first idyllic celebration of thanksgiving by the Pilgrims at Plymouth in Massachusetts in 1621 was a three-day foodapaloozawith 100 last-minute guests (the natives) prepared by five women. Yes, I'm oversimplifying. Those five women had no time to complain, which may be one reason why this festival has such endearing attachment to family and home, two things of which we should be grateful.

But back to those five ladies - I'm thankful for their culinary expertise, such as it was nearly four centuries ago. Their endurance eventually won out over Yankee vs. Southern political quirkiness - and due to the persistance of Sarah Hale.

It was President Abraham Lincoln who finally set in stone the establishment of a national observance of Thanksgiving. His proclamation is all the more profound today:

The year that is drawing towards its close, has been filled with the blessings of fruitful fields and healthful skies. To these bounties, which are so constantly enjoyed that we are prone to forget the source from which they come, others have been added, which are of so extraordinary a nature, that they cannot fail to penetrate and soften even the heart which is habitually insensible to the ever watchful providence of Almighty God. In the midst of a civil war of unequalled magnitude and severity, which has sometimes seemed to foreign States to invite and to provoke their aggression, peace has been preserved with all nations, order has been maintained, the laws have been respected and obeyed, and harmony has prevailed everywhere except in the theatre of military conflict; while that theatre has been greatly contracted by the advancing armies and navies of the Union. Needful diversions of wealth and of strength from the fields of peaceful industry to the national defence, have not arrested the plough, the shuttle, or the ship; the axe had enlarged the borders of our settlements, and the mines, as well of iron and coal as of the precious metals, have yielded even more abundantly than heretofore. Population has steadily increased, notwithstanding the waste that has been made in the camp, the siege and the battle-field; and the country, rejoicing in the consciousness of augmented strength and vigor, is permitted to expect continuance of years, with large increase of freedom.

No human counsel hath devised nor hath any mortal hand worked out these great things. They are the gracious gifts of the Most High God, who, while dealing with us in anger for our sins, hath nevertheless remembered mercy.

It has seemed to me fit and proper that they should be solemnly, reverently and gratefully acknowledged as with one heart and voice by the whole American people. I do therefore invite my fellow citizens in every part of the United States, and also those who are at sea and those who are sojourning in foreign lands, to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November next, as a day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the Heavens. And I recommend to them that while offering up the ascriptions justly due to Him for such singular deliverances and blessings, they do also, with humble penitence for our national perverseness and disobedience, commend to his tender care all those who have become widows, orphans, mourners or sufferers in the lamentable civil strife in which we are unavoidably engaged, and fervently implore the interposition of the Almighty Hand to heal the wounds of the nation and to restore it as soon as may be consistent with the Divine purposes to the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquility and Union.

In testimony whereof, I have hereunto set my hand, and caused the seal of the United States to be affixed.

Done at the city of Washington, this third day of October, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-three, and of the independence of the United States the eighty-eighth."

--Proclamation of President Abraham Lincoln, 3 October 1863.

May you be surrounded today by the things of which you are most thankful.

Thanks be to Thee
Lord God of hosts,
Thou broughtest forth
With mighty hand
Israel safe through the sea.

Thanks be to Thee
Thanks be to Thee
Thy holy name
Be ever blest
Glory, honor and praise be Thine!

Thy loving kindness doth forever prevail
Tenderly, tenderly guiding all those who come unto Thee.

Thanks be to Thee
Thanks be to Thee
Thou art the King
O'er land and sea
Praise, adoration we sing unto Thee!

--Thanks Be to Thee
(composite translation)
George Frideric Handel (1685-1759)

Getting it in Gear

2009-11-22T15:31:00.002-06:00

The Thirty-Fourth (and last) Sunday in Ordinary Time
The Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ the King

The Word:
Daniel 7:13-14 (His sovereignty is eternal)
Psalm 93:1-5 (The Lord is king; he is robed in majesty)
Revelation 1:5-8 (The ruler of the kings of the earth...made us a line of kings, priests to serve his God)
John 18:33-37 (Jesus to Pilate: "It is you who say that I am a king...Anyone committed to the truth hears my voice")

It's one of those seemingly awkward points in the year.

In Chicago today it's about 60 degrees, which is warm for late November. The trees have 'decided' to shed their leaves; but the grass looks greener than it does in April, and some fresh dandelion blossoms have popped up. The stores are pulling out the Christmas decorations, and Lite FM has switched over to their "all-holiday" music format; yet Thanksgiving is still four days away. Even I have been swayed a bit and started reviewing some plans to start this year's "Season of Light" devotions. For the reader surfing by, this is my term for the period that starts with the fourth Thursday in November (Thanksgiving Day in the US) and January 6 (Twelfth Night, "Little Christmas," and the traditional date of Epiphany). I am going to do it again this year...trying my best to keep things fresh and not too repetitive since I did this last year.

It's rather ironic but at the same time most appropriate that this Season of Light takes place at the time when there's ever decreasing daylight, at least in the Northern Hemisphere. (Bear with me if your reading this from someplace in the Southern Hemisphere. It's the Season of Light there as well, but with a different significance.)

Today, Catholics recognize the representation of Jesus as King. It is the last feast of the liturgical year; as such, it's good to recall other representations in which we know Christ: the Good Shepherd, the Bread of Life, the Way, Truth, and Life; and lastly, the Light that no darkness can extinguish.

Soon we will be immersed (if not already drowning) in the sea of darkness that is the secular side of "Holiday Preparation." Is it just me, or are all the new holiday-themed TV specials having their premiere airing before Thanksgiving? There's going to be less, and there's more that is needed. Is this just going to make me wish it's all over before it even starts?

The King of Kings charged his disciples with the task of being "Light-Bearers." How important that mission is, now more than ever! To be merry and bright and preparing the way of the Lord! To not forget where we've been, but to let that serve as a reminder of the event we're supposed to be celebrating in roughly...33 days, and where it is we're ultimately heading.

These are the days of Elijah,
Declaring the word of the Lord:
And these are the days of Your servant Moses,
Righteousness being restored.
And though these are days of great trial,
Of famine and darkness and sword,
Still, we are the voice in the desert crying
'Prepare ye the way of the Lord!'

Behold He comes riding on the clouds,
Shining like the sun at the trumpet call;
Lift your voice, it's the year of jubilee,
And out of Zion's hill salvation comes.

These are the days of Ezekiel,
The dry bones becoming as flesh;
And these are the days of Your servant David,
Rebuilding a temple of praise.
These are the days of the harvest,
The fields are as white in Your world,
And we are the laborers in Your vineyard,
Declaring the word of the Lord!

Behold He comes riding on the clouds,
Shining like the sun at the trumpet call;
Lift your voice, it's the year of jubilee,
And out of Zion's hill salvation comes.

There's no God like Jehovah.
There's no God like Jehovah!

Behold He comes riding on the clouds,
Shining like the sun at the trumpet call;
Lift your voice, it's the year of jubilee,
And out of Zion's hill salvation comes.

--Days of Elijah (1997)
written by Robin Mark
recorded by Twila Paris

A Music Minister's Primer

2009-11-08T14:56:00.001-06:00

The Thirty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time

The Word:
1 Kings 17:10-16 (The widow of Zarephath feeds Elijah the prophet from her meager provisions; God rewards her by keeping her from running out of flour and oil)
Psalm 146:7-10 (The Lord provides food for the hungry, and sustains the widowed and orphaned)
Hebrews 9:24-28 (Christ did not enter a sanctuary made by human hands, but into heaven itself)
Mark 12:38-44 ("The widow, in her poverty, contributed all she had")

And - Judges 4 & 5 (Deborah, Israel's female judge, and why you need her - Behind every man there is a good woman)
Ephesians 5:10-20 (Do not continue in ignorance, but try to understand what is the will of the Lord)

A crossroads.
The Mass of Remembrance and the Days of the Dead are now past, and the Season of Light (Advent through Christmas to Epiphany) - though not quite here yet - is now in the planning stages.

It's usually all hands on deck for church musicians for the next seven weeks. This is one of the two seasons when even the casual musician tends to get busy, adding to the general business and mayhem that prevails throughout December. It's time for the first string leaders to take a quick breather (hopefully, nobody's noticed) and the second string to take charge (again, hopefully, nobody's noticed).

I've a strong belief that church musicians should pray (often) and it should be part of rehearsals and warm-ups. That's something I wasn't always used to, but through Mike and Jeff and several of the folks at Cornerstone, it's part of the landscape and routine. Over the years I've become just comfortable enough to ad lib when called upon to lead, and that includes impromptu or spontaneous prayer. However, it's easier to have something on which to focus and adapt where necessary. I attribute this to my Catholic upbringing, where everything can be scripted - including private prayer.

For several reasons I was called upon to serve as the team leader this morning. Not wanting to leave out something I believe to be important, I went searching for stuff to use for a launchpad. Deo Gratias to the Internet and Google - and of course to the folks who were blessed enough and received the inspiration to write what I'm about to share. I offer this as a public service - a few thoughtful and prayerful moments (not to mention a few that are accompanied by a laugh or two) can go a long way to keep things in perspective..

The Traditional Musician's Prayer
(with apologies to Francis of Assisi)
Source: www.qmcorp.net/zouki/scripta/prayer.html

Lord, keep always before me
The appreciation of music as one of Your greatest gifts.
Never let me stray far from the tune;
Help me to remain faithful to the spirits
Of those musicians who have gone before
Leaving this lovely legacy in my care.

Lord, let me always remember
What Your Golden Rule instructs
So that I treat other musicians
As I would wish to be treated myself.

Lord, let me always remember
That You give Irish musicians a special gift:
The opportunity to praise and glorify You
While sitting around playing jigs and reels
In dark smoky pubs.

Lord, give me patience always
And help me to remember
That the word "tradition"
Implies sharing.

Lord, give me tolerance always
And help me to appreciate
The Great Mystery:
Not everybody likes what I like.
Never let me slip too far into self-importance
And help me use as necessary
Whatever sense of humor
You may have imparted to me.

Lord, let me never forget
That I don't have all the answers
And that there's nobody
That I can't learn from
(Even bodhrán and banjo players)

And finally, Lord - if it's not too much to ask -
Make me competent first
Then respected
And eventually brilliant.
(But Your will always be done.)

Amen.

Fifteen Dead-Certain Recipes for an Insipid Musicians' Prayer Group
Source: www.crescendo.org/download/pdf/gkee.pdf, June 1988

1. The inner attitude with which you go to group meetings is luckily unimportant. The
important thing is above all loyal fulfilment of duty, which you, as a good
Christian, are willing to take upon yourself. No-one is really counting on your
expecting something special from God during the meeting. So: drop in, and see what’s
going on.

2. It makes a bit of an impression if you arrive too late. This shows a) that you
have a full appointments diary and b) at the same time you have a deeply spiritual
attitude: you look in, even though you really have some pressing things to
practice.

3. Don’t have a bad conscience when the same old things disturb you even during the
first greetings of the evening: that F.seems so insecure, that M. is always
talking about her successes (she isn’t actually that good, anyway), and that L.
always sounds so religious. Unity isn’t made by generously looking away from the
faults of others but by recognizing the faults for what they are and trying to
convince oneself that God loves these people as well.

4. Last time, someone asked you if you would lead the prayer time, and you
responded enthusiastically. Now, it was right that you didn’t prepare yourself
specially for this. The more spontaneous, the more spiritual. The others should
contribute wishes. If there are prolonged pauses, just ask "What shall we do now?".
This stimulates discussion. The opposite, a prepared plan, leads on the contrary to a
serious disturbance of the discussion. (This appears rather familiar to me!)

5. During personal sharing, it is important for everyone to give the full story of all
the little things that happened in the past week. The smallest details are particularly
interesting, and lively discussions on technical matters often develop - for example on this or that teacher or on yesterday’s concert.

6. Feel free as well to say out loud where someone has got on your nerves in recent
days. Perhaps the same has happened to others, and we can pray precisely for the
person concerned. Unbridled criticism is edifying when it is laid aside again in
prayer.

7. Say long prayers and use that theological language which God understands.
Short, powerful prayers only betray a simple mind.

8. It is generally true that concrete prayer rapidly becomes embarrassing. How do
you respond when what you have prayed for doesn’t happen? God (and the people
praying) should not be pinned down to definite wishes. It is better to pray
"Lord, let many come to faith in this congregation (or assembly)" rather than "Help me to start
a conversation about you with S. in the next few days and enable me to pass on your
love."

9. The prayer requests should not demand too much faith. It seems exaggerated if you
have big goals in faith. It is better to let humility speak and to be particularly
thankful for small things. As Christians, we are not worthy to receive great things
from God.

10. Matters for prayer often weigh heavily upon us. This fact should be reflected in a
serious, oppressive atmosphere. Especially in times of intercession, praise and thanks
for God’s powerful working should be avoided. Our gaze should be fixed entirely
on the mountain of problems, which can only be levelled by grim wrestling. This - and
nothing else - is what moving mountains is all about.

11. A point concerning songs. Suggest difficult songs, not the familiar ones that
perhaps help people to fix their gaze worshipfully on God. You are musicians and
have to show your ability in prayer times as well.

12. Take care that no close contacts develop between members of the group. This
could detract from serious studies. In addition, fellowship amongst Christians
should be marked by spiritual earnestness and never by a lot of merriment. Remember:
Christians who like laughing are suspicious...

13. What should you do if a group has been spiritually asleep for weeks on end? It’s
best to do nothing, for, remember, "While they sleep, the Lord provides for those he
loves"!

14. The spiritual and mental state of the others is basically none of your business.
If someone is feeling bad, recommend some good books or a pastor. It would be a
mistake to deviate from the program in favor of a deeper discussion or perhaps to
have an extended time of prayer for a problem that has suddenly turned up. By the
way, the silliest thing that can happen in a prayer group is for someone (perhaps even
a man) to start crying. Strict measures are to be taken to prevent such situations
arising.

15. Just a last word on being interdenominational:
this offers material for hours of discussion. Questions about baptism, the significance of Mary, communion, etc., are so central that one really can’t pray until these things have been sorted out. So: we hope you have a good time!

It is true, dear friends, that the Holy Spirit covers up a multitude of mea culpas during high season. Raise your voices, and raise the roof!

It's "All Hallows", Not "Scared Senseless"

2009-11-01T17:25:00.000-06:00

The Solemnity of All Saints, November 1

(The Thirty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time)

The Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed (All Souls), November 2

(Los Días de los Muertos)

The Word:

Revelation 7:2-14 (The survivors of ‘great distress’ are clad in white robes washed in the blood of the Lamb)

Psalm 24:1-6 (Lord, this is the people that longs to see your face)

1 John 3:1-3 (When all is revealed we shall be like God, for we shall see him as he is)

Matthew 5:1-12 (The Beatitudes)

Wisdom 3:1-9 (The souls of the just are in the hand of God, no torment can touch them)

Psalm 23 (Even though I walk in the dark valley, I fear no evil)

Romans 5:5-11 (Hope does not disappoint)

Or Romans 6:3-9 (Our Christian baptism is baptism into Jesus’ death, that we will be united with him in the resurrection)

(To view and read the citation from the book of Wisdom, click on this link: www.usccb.org/nab/110109.shtml)

Despite what you may have heard, among the things that are celebrated as October turns to November and Autumn's colorful gown is shed as Winter's dormancy begins to settle in, is the remembrance of our ancestral roots.

The Fourth Commandment (of those famous ten that Ted Turner once referred to as "suggestions") speaks of honoring one's father and mother (see Leviticus 19:3 and Deuteronomy 5:16.) In all seriousness, this extends not only to your immediate parents, but to the ancestors on the family tree. In Catholic tradition, this sense of family extends in two ways - to honor the great men and women who achieved canonized sainthood, and to remember all the good and faithful people who died in the hope and promise of salvation in Jesus Christ.

That's what we should celebrate. That, and the success of the harvest winding down are truly big things. But for some bizarre sets of reason left through the passing of time, we have this strange attraction to the grotesque. The late pope John Paul II spoke and wrote about a pervasive "culture of death" prevalent in modern society, and one place where it would seem readily apparent is in how All Hallows' Eve (aka Halloween) is celebrated.

Without getting deep in theological debate, there's a lot of fingerpointing over who's to blame. The ancient Celts supposedly donned costumes to protect their identity from spirits wanting to steal souls. Catholics sometimes point fingers at Protestant Christians because Martin Luther posted his famous 95 Theses on the door of the cathedral at Wittenburg on October 31, 1517. Protestants retort that Catholics worshiped false gods (in the personages of Mary and the aforementioned holy men and women proclaimed as saints). All this would seem to prove nothing but that all of us have had a hand in turning what should be a recalling of God's glory and grace into anything but that.

I don't buy into this whole commercialized let's see how far we can go to scare the wits out of somebody genre. I can't. There's plenty of real-life things out there that scare me enough. Most of it is brought to me in full color on my television and computer screens. And to get paid to frighten people? Is something good supposed to come out of that? Sorry, I just don't get it.

There's a very beautiful thing about this time of year. Nature reminds us that time ultimately grows short. It's a good time to remember where we are - and the people who helped us get there. It is yet another opportunity to understand that what lies beyond this life is not something we should fear. It is not unknown; but in order to reach that place, we must cross the bridge of death, a bridge given to us by the grace of God.

These are days of remembrance and of hope. Not only for those who have passed, but for all of us still living here. Let us recall with love and affection what all our passed loved ones and friends gave us. It is this giving that is what these days are truly about. Not taking, but giving. Not grotesque, but forever beautiful and forever living. Let us not be afraid. Let us not grovel in gruesome fear. Let us dance gracefully with the dead, for in this dance we come to better know the hope to which we are called and aspire.

Recall with me a few of the more prominent names of people who have died in the last twelve months:

2008:
November 4 – Michael Crichton, American author and producer (born 1942)

December 12 – Van Johnson, American actor (born 1916)
December 18 – W. Mark Felt, American FBI agent, "Deep Throat" from the Watergate scandal (born 1913)
December 25 – Eartha Kitt, American singer and actress (born 1927)

2009:
January 13 – Patrick McGoohan, Irish-born American actor (born 1928)
January 14 – Ricardo Montalbán, Mexican-born American actor (born 1920)
January 16 – Andrew Wyeth, American painter (born 1917)
January 27 – John Updike, American writer (born 1932)

February 6 – James Whitmore, American actor (born 1921)
February 25 – Philip José Farmer, American writer (born 1918)

March 29 – Maurice Jarre, French composer and conductor (born 1924)

April 25 – Beatrice Arthur, American actress (born 1922)

May 2 – Jack Kemp, American politician and football player (born 1935)
May 4 – Dom DeLuise, American actor and comedian (born 1933)

June 3 – David Carradine, American actor (born 1936)
June 3 – Koko Taylor, American musician (born 1928)
June 25 – Farrah Fawcett, American actress (born 1947)
June 25 – Michael Jackson, American performer and recording artist (born 1958)

July 1 – Karl Malden, American actor (born 1912)
July 6 – Robert McNamara, 8th United States Secretary of Defense (born 1916)
July 17 – Walter Cronkite, American newscaster (born 1916)
July 28 - Frederick J. Eikerenkoetter II, televangelist, better known as "Reverend Ike" (born 1935)
July 30 - Earl G. Lowrey, lay leader of Cornerstone Church (born 1951)

August 1 – Corazon Aquino, 11th President of the Philippines (born 1933)
August 6 – John Hughes, American film director and writer (born 1950)
August 11 – Eunice Kennedy Shriver, American founder of the Special Olympics (born 1921)
August 13 – Les Paul, American musician and inventor (born 1915)
August 25 – Ted Kennedy, American politician (born 1932)

September 14 – Patrick Swayze, American actor and dancer (born 1952)
September 16 – Mary Travers, American singer-songwriter (born 1936)

October 13 – Al Martino, American singer and actor (born 1927)
October 22 - Soupy Sales, American entertainer (born 1926)

When the Music Fades

2009-10-11T21:05:00.001-05:00

The Twenty-Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time

The Word:
Wisdom 7:7-11 (King Solomon recalls his prayer for wisdom, and gives its attributes)
Psalm 90:12-17 (Fill us with your love, Lord, and we will sing for joy)
Hebrews 4:12-13 (The living word of God is sharper than a two-edged sword)
Mark 10:17-30 ("It's easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle")

Some loosely connected thoughts...

A week ago, a member of my extended family posted on Facebook that she was 'trying out' for some upcoming community theater project - and when she didn't make the cut, was notably upset because she had been given the impression that everybody who shows up basically gets a part. (That's a pretty interesting thing to consider for a combined population area of nearly 200,000 people - what kind of production could be managed if everybody showed up to audition and was guaranteed a part?) Add to this some confusion on my part. Somewhere in my memory banks I get the impression that there was a fee involved to audition. I can't confirm that, or what the fee was, or if you only had to pay it if you made the cut.

Flashback, forty years ago. An impressionable child is blessed with a decent (trying to be modest here) musical talent. His limited exposure to the entertainment scene gives him the impression that he could make a career out of this.

While the landscape may look more populated these days, not much seems to have changed in the last forty years, with the possible exception of seeing more people create more opportunities to push an envelope for the proverbial fifteen minutes of fame. This in turn has more young folks thinking this is their potential future, only to find out that the chances of 'making it,' let alone big, are measured in light years.

Meanwhile, my son made his debut last week singing in the church praise team at services. He was thrilled. He had practiced for months, observed for years. Both my wife and I had spent time coaching him. My schedule between two churches (as a musician) lengthened the process - but at last he made it.

Now, he's not the type who would get past Round One on American Idol. Just the same, three people came to him after the service, encouraging him to keep up the good work. I know this - I was there. Then, Friday's mail brought a hand-written card from the pastor, addressed to my son. He was also encouraging. This is truly a breakthrough - one I hoped for but dreaded might never come.

I've seen church after church, one congregation after another, come to near begging for young people to volunteer. I can't help but wonder why there aren't more. I don't know if it's kids' busy schedules or parents who insist on their kids doing things they wouldn't do themselves. There's probably a lot more to this than I am considering at the moment; but all I see is much disappointment and anger when aiming high fails. God calls us to do big stuff, to be sure; but there's plenty to do and there's a better chance of it getting done if the target is a bit more within reach; and we're working in collaboration rather than in constant, high-stakes competition.

I am proud of my son's accomplishment. I am even more appreciative that there are people who care enough to encourage him to continue. And continue he shall - I will see to that.

Having said this, I'll turn tables just a bit. Everyone indeed has their moment to shine. However, not everyone will shine in the same thing. Don't count on me to pull a big play in a sporting event. And some, no matter how well-intended, should never be allowed to sing in public, as indicated in the video clip that follows. (Feel free to turn it off the second you've had enough...)

Let The Children Come to Me (The Adults Aren't )

2009-10-05T20:55:00.002-05:00

The Twenty-Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time
World Communion Sunday
The Feast of Saint Francis of Assisi
(October 4)

The Word:
Genesis 2:18-24 (Adam's rib becomes Eve, man's 'suitable partner')
Psalm 128:1-6 (Your wife is like a fruitful vine...your children like olive plants)
Hebrews 2:9-11 (The one who consecrates and those who are consecrated have the same origin)
Mark 10:2-16 ("Whoever does not accept the kingdom of God like a child will not enter it")

There are several threads of thought running through my head, any of which would make good starting places for reflection. I'll likely get to them before the month gets away from me. The one that seems to be sticking at the moment is the one that just connected two dots.

If there ever was a soul who continuously appeared to accept the will of God as might a child, it was Francis of Assisi (1182-1226). Perhaps the one person who is seen as a holy man by Christians and non-Christians alike; yet Francis also grasped a couple of spiritual concepts that require much reinforcement and explanation for folks like me just to wrap arms around, let alone understand.

As children we had many 'WOW!' moments. Many things were larger than life to us then. Then we experienced the challenges; the stuff we had to wade through with difficulty. Stuff from the loss of a beloved pet to trying to understand math and proper sentence structure - things that elude some but not others. And suddenly, those 'WOW' moments became fewer and further between.

As adults we try in so many complicated ways to find those moments - or should I say, create them. The more we attempt to create this, the harder it gets. Nothing seems to fit quite right.

Maybe, just maybe, it's our perception. We dream big. That's good in the world of dreams, but is a tall order translating into everyday life.

Like everyone else, Francis had moments where perception translated in an unusual way. When he was urged to "repair" the Church, his first thought was to rebuild La Portiuncula, a small church in ruins. Little did he realize what rebuilding God had in mind.

Francis ultimately founded the Order of Friars Minor (Franciscan priests), yet wept near the end of his life because the rule of poverty he had himself embraced was too harsh for those who would follow him.

In his zeal to deepen his relationship with Jesus, he saw God's hand in everything, and even referred to death as a 'sister.'

He "lived simply, so that others could simply live."

I don't know if this quote is attributed to Francis, but it certainly describes him. If we were to live more in the spirit of that quote, our perception might just snap into clearer focus. Then we would fully appreciate and live in the hope in which God has called us.

And all I can say when I consider that is...WOW.

Moving Body Parts

2009-09-27T17:18:00.000-05:00

The 26th Sunday in Ordinary Time

The Word:
Numbers 11:25-29 (Moses: "Would that all the people of the Lord were prophets")
Psalm 19:8-14 (Lord, cleanse me from my unknown faults)
James 5:1-6 (Come, you rich, and mourn over your ultimate losses)
Mark 9:38-48 ("If your hand causes you to sin, cut it off!")

Both of the priests whom I had the pleasure of hearing today were quick to comment that this difficult quote of Jesus in Mark's Gospel is not meant to be taken literally. But is it really? What else could explain the number of deliberate maimings and mutilations that have occurred since Mark put this one down in the books? Hey, folks, nobody can deny this sort of thing doesn't happen, even in this day and age. When we hear of such in the present, our first thoughts are that the person really needs psychiatric help (and prayer).

I got to thinking along a somewhat related tangent while singing with the choir today.

For the first time in God knows how long, the men outnumber the women this season. (The reason: the three top women in the choir have secular job in semi-pro show biz; their schedules, along with another couple of working women, suddenly rule out their general availability for Sundays.) Among my God-given gifts as a musician are the ability to sight read fairly well, a slightly better than average vocal range, and the ability to adapt on the fly - so our director this morning asked me to become a "bargain" counter-tenor (inside joke) and sing the alto part. This reminded me of the stories of the castrati in the boys' choirs of antiquity. Makes you really wonder just how seriously people took Mark's text. (For the curious, I'll explain it at another time. For now, console yourself with the belief that we've managed to get smarter since those days.)

I am generally convinced that God has a sense of humor. The first person I heard say this was the comedian/actor Robin Williams, who then offered as proof the evolution of the platypus. I don't have to go that far. Father Damien, in his take on Mark's text, took a "what you don't know can hurt you" bent - mentioning that in our (generic) attempts to have personal space, many a child has a TV set and/or computer in their bedroom; thus introducing the concept that lack of a modest degree of vigilance may lead our kids into temptation with the plethora of who-knows-what that's part of cyberspace and mainstream home entertainment today. Then he went on to say that at 70, he doesn't even know how to turn the thing on.

Sounds like my Mom.

On that subject, Mom made it to my niece's wedding last weekend. It was great to have her there; it was her first activity anywhere since the end of July when she was hospitalized briefly. Since then, due to her condition aggravated by Parkinson's Disease, she's been in a convalescent care center. She was given the green light to go home this past Wednesday...but at the last minute both she and Dad agreed that it would be best if she remained in the nursing home for a bit longer. How long, nobody's saying yet. This is a very big decision that they agreed to, since the costs aren't minor and Medicare won't cover them. However, I can't argue against the decision. To go home at this point would put my parents back in the position of having to fend a bit more for themselves. Among other things, this means they'd go back to eating mainly microwaved meals - something not really healthy for anyone, let alone the two septuagenarians I know and love most.

My dearest wife Diane, who has been plowing through meal plans, calorie counts, and nutritional information for a good chunk of her life, told me that she would really like to be able to help them. I, too, feel it's important to honor my mother and father by helping them in their old age. The logistics are difficult but not insurmountable - but they'd be easier to manage if we lived a little closer to them than we do presently. Other opportunities, cut off by time, distance, and the lack of public transit, could become available - and will be needed to help Nick make the jump into the bigger world.

So...the big decision we've made here is to move closer to where clearly two-thirds of where/how we interact takes place. By the end of next spring we hope to have found a new place to live - a place closer to where we conduct most of our business, where we're better able to care for each other as well as my parents. It's a tall order, but not doing so seems wrong on so many levels. May we be blessed with the resources we will need to get there.

Move it...or lose it. It's that important, and that serious.

The KPIs of Music in Worship

2009-09-21T08:50:00.000-05:00

The Twenty-Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

The Word:
Wisdom 2:12-20 (Let us beset the just one, for he is obnoxious to us)
Psalm 54:3-8 (The Lord upholds my life)
James 3:16 - 4:3 (The fruit of righteousness is sown in peace for those who cultivate peace)
Mark 9:30-37 ("If anyone wishes to be first, he shall be the last of all and the servant of all")

(NOTE: The book of Wisdom is not included in most non-Catholic editions of the Bible. To read the excerpt, as well as the other selections of the day, go to this link: www.usccb.org/nab/092009.shtml.)

I've been a pastoral musician for forty years now. That and five bucks will get you a Pumpkin Spice Latte at Starbucks (for a limited time only).

Having said that, though, I've come to understand some of the nuances about this vocation. I won't admit to being an expert as it would automatically discount my experiences. But I want to share just a few thoughts in this area of service.

I might draw some ire from a few, yet it's my belief that the people who serve as pastoral musicians, especially the volunteers, fall in the definition mentioned by Jesus and recorded by the evangelist Mark. I cite as some evidence of proof for this a quote from (Saint) Augustine of Hippo, who wrote that a person who sings "prays twice." (Some of the perfectionists among us like to add the word "well" as an adverb.)

Forty-five years ago, the Second Vatican Council defined the place of music within the liturgy of the Roman Catholic Mass, and the importance of developing and maintaining a repertoire of works, as well as the personnel and attitude required to complement the action of prayerful worship. (At present the Catholic Church in America is on the cusp of establishing a 'universal' hymnal for use in the US, as most of the other Christian Churches already have in place.)

John Wesley, who co-founded the Methodist Church, found it appropriate to write some "Directions for Singing" in 1761:
"IV. Sing lustily and with a good courage. Beware of singing as if you were half dead, or half asleep; but lift up your voice with strength. Be no more afraid of your voice now, nor more ashamed of its being heard..."

And:
"VI. Above all sing spiritually. Have an eye to God in every word you sing. Aim at pleasing him more than yourself, or any other creature. In order to do this, attend strictly to the sense of what you sing, and see that your heart is not carried away with the sound, but offered to God continually; so shall your singing be such as the Lord will approve here, and reward you when he cometh in the clouds of heaven."

John had not to worry about musical content, as his brother Charles would write more than 200 hymns over the course of his life. On the other hand, neither John nor Charles were likely concerned about the potential for burnout from having to plan and execute multiple services on any given Sunday, let alone Christmas or Easter.

As a forty-year veteran, multiple services are part of the territory. It would be great if enough people were to volunteer to permit musicians to serve only once a week. However, it pleased God to allow the faithful to have diverse talents and levels of ability. It also pleased God to invite, rather than demand, that participation in worship include the use of the wide variety of styles presently found in the repertoire of sacred music.

Pastoral musicians are (or should be) constantly aware that there's a fine line between music as worship and music as performance, and that line is often blurred or difficult to see. People in this vocation can actually be overqualified, if you catch my drift.

All this weighs in on the person ultimately responsible for putting together the selection of music for any given service. This person is usually directly responsible to the pastor or church council to see that what's chosen is appropriate for use in worship, doesn't ruffle any doctrinal or theological feathers, and is singable by the congregation as well as the other pastoral musicians. It is not as easy as it sounds. I've been close enough to people who do it, wanted to do it, and then thanked God that it's not my job. Still, I have a certain respect and admiration for those who take up this mantle. That's the reason for this week's devotion.

When you're used to having only one service to work on (with the multiples occurring only at Christmas and Easter), and then have to ramp up to two (or more) per week, it gets appreciably tougher. Even though the services may be identical, there's usually something about them that won't be. In my Catholic circles, one of the services will be led by a visiting priest who has no idea to the way the pastor makes the other services flow. There has been disaster in the making on more than one occasion.

What's common to all traditions, though, is that those involved - who have already given up more time due to setup, warm up, take down, and comments good or bad from anyone, including the pastor - are adding that much more time. Frequently, for those in charge there's no time to decompress from one service to get ready for the next. I'm acutely aware of this and what it can do. Every moment is precious and sometimes you just have to try to simply disappear for a few minutes. Your "time alone with God" ends up being elsewhere and at odd times, and that's if you work hard to remember that and don't have a weekday job.

If this sounds remotely like you, know that I am praying for you and your families. You can use as much prayer as you can get.

I have found connections through prayer while moving/walking that helps me reset my focus. More often than not, however, I've found that the very music I sing (and some I listen to) provide much needed ministry to me. In particular, I have three texts I'd like to share as launching points. The first is a bit more traditional in nature and style:

When in our music God is glorified,
and adoration leaves no room for pride,
it is as though the whole creation cried
Alleluia!

How often, making music, we have found
a new dimension in the world of sound,
as worship moved us to a more profound
Alleluia!

So has the Church, in liturgy and song,
in faith and love, through centuries of wrong,
borne witness to the truth in every tongue,
Alleluia!

And did not Jesus sing a psalm that night
when utmost evil strove against the Light?
Then let us sing, for whom he won the fight,
Alleluia!

Let every instrument be tuned for praise!
Let all rejoice who have a voice to raise!
And may God give us faith to sing always
Alleluia! Amen.

--When In Our Music
Fred Pratt Green (1903-2000)

The second I listen to frequently, have sheet music and actually got to sing once:

He has brought us together
Each of us a different gift to bring.
We’ll serve Him forever
Even if the cost is everything.
He has called us to be faithful,
So with one heart we give this offering.

(CHORUS)
The reason we sing,
The reason we lift our voice,
Is more than just making harmony.
The reason we sing
Is to praise the one who gave His Son to be
The reason we sing.

It's more than just an emotion,
His spirit gives us joy that we can't hide.
We will not be silent,
We've got to let the world hear what's inside.
And as we praise Him with our music,
Jesus is the one we glorify.

(REPEAT CHORUS 2x with modulation and tag)

--The Reason We Sing (1983)
Melodie Tunney (First Call)

Inevitably, though, that blurred line occasionally gets crossed, whether real or imagined. When that happens, I am thankful for being introduced to this last offering:

When the music fades
All is stripped away
And i simply come
Longing just to bring
Something that's of worth
That will bless your heart

I'll bring you more than a song
For a song in itself
Is not what you have required
You search much deeper within
Through the way things appear
You're looking into my heart

(Chorus)
I'm coming back to the heart of worship
And it's all about you
It's all about you, Jesus
I'm sorry, Lord for the things I've made it
When it's all about you
It's all about you, Jesus

King of endless worth
No one could express
How much you deserve
though I'm weak and poor
All I have is yours
Every single breath

I'll bring you more than a song
For a song in itself
Is not what you have required
You search much deeper within
Through the way things appear
You're looking into my heart

(Repeat chorus )

--The Heart of Worship (1998)

Matt Redman

Finally, I constantly remind myself (and occasionally others) that the Holy Spirit is present - and being conscious of this, try not to worry as much about imperfections in the aspects of performance. Our imperfections can be made perfect through God's grace, and we may not even be aware of it.

Pop Quiz

2009-09-13T20:28:00.002-05:00

The Twenty-Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

The Word:
Isaiah 50: 5-9 (Third Song of the Servant: The Lord God is my help; who will prove me wrong?)
Psalm 116:1-9 (I will walk before the Lord, in the land of the living)
James 2:14-18 (James explains further that faith without works is like a screen door on a submarine)
Mark 8:27-35 (Jesus to Peter: "Get behind me, Satan!")

Over the last few weeks I've written stuff here that is for the most part general in nature. If you got the impression that I was getting preachy, you're probably right. As a minister I am charged to do that.

Having said that, though, the best preachers (in my opinion) somehow manage to weave the fabric of their own life into their preaching, and make it a bit more personal. Probably a bit more real, too. To rely on a gimmick of sorts (my recent "Signs for Our Times" series), while well-intended, doesn't lend itself well to getting personal - and possibly misses an opportunity to be an example of "living" faith. I hope to correct that this time. It may not quite reach the standard set in the epistle of James, but it's substance. That is what counts.

Apart from the psalm, this week's selected readings ask many questions; this has inspired the "Pop Quiz" subject line. I'll try to answer a couple of these - just don't be surprized if the answers come in the form of more questions. And no, this isn't some gimmick-like attempt to tie-in with the Jeopardy! game show - although it might be interesting if Alex Trebek put forth the clues.

Isaiah asks Question #1: The Lord God is my help; who will prove me wrong?
That begs these questions - Is God my help? Do I see the hand of God extended to me through help and assistance from others?

This is tough right from the start. I can feel the sweat on my brow just thinking about it! While I could rationalize much of my sense of peace and security through deliberate thought and careful planning (yes, these are important), it's incomplete without recognizing God's major part in it. Some thoughts are but a snapshot. Plans often have to change on the fly. The two most consistent things about this life are human inconsistency (in which I do well) versus God's consistency (in which He excels). That a divine constant exists is what enables me to work through it all.

James puts forth several questions, best summed up as Question #2: Is your faith one that works? Do your actions echo your beliefs?

These guys don't make it easy, you know? I mean, sure; your actions echo your beliefs whether or not you profess them verbally. And if your faith works only for you, some further inner research may be in order. It seems to be an inevitable part of everyone's personal regime. When I try to be constant, I inevitably get too narrow a focus. That's worked great for a short time. Maybe I put too much emphasis on our human inconsistency. When I learn from my weaknesses, they can be overcome. But if I just sit there and stew over them, nothing good can come from it.

Jesus asks the big one, Question #3: Who do you say that I am?

Oh, this one is easy, right? Or is it?

Sure, as believers and disciples we can all answer just as blustery as did Peter: You are the Christ! The Son of God, the Messiah, the Savior and Redeemer of humankind! But is that answer from head knowledge, or from deep within the heart and spirit?

I can readily identify with Peter. Who else can say something so profound, and then in the next breath say something that irritates Jesus to the point of saying Shut the hell up!

You're reading him. I've done it - I've behaved like that many times in direct contact with people I love dearly; my family who looks up to me for leadership and support. The good news is I'm much better at spotting that behavior than I was earlier in my adult life. The bad news is that I realize it about a second and a half after those irritating things leave my mouth.

With all that, what sort of score should I expect to receive?

Thank God this isn't among the sort of quizzes I find all over Facebook and elsewhere in cyberspace. Optimistically, I hope for an A-, but practically, it's more like a C+. If I listen to the doomsayers and the fire & brimstone people, I could even be looking at a D- or even worse. Happily, God's justice is more balanced; and his mercy, love, and grace is priceless extra credit. God invites us to participate in much more, and that's the stuff that gives everyone the chance to shine.

That's why I'm going to let go of many less-significant issues and questions tonight. There will be no sounding off on the plight of the merry misfits with whom I keep company away from home; no harping on the seemingly endless jumping through hoops to merely get things done. Besides, my dear wife gets much more done in a day than me. She'd be the first to put me in my place if I bluffed my way through life.

If you aren't sure about where you are with God, you've likely scored higher than many who know answers. May that be a springboard for a life at peace from within, a peace only God can give.

Just don't let it go to your head.

A Day Late and $1.0380 Short

2009-09-07T20:34:00.000-05:00

The Twenty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time
Labor Day Weekend

The Word:
Isaiah 35:4-7 (Say to those who are frightened: Be strong, fear not!)
Psalm 146:7-10 (The orphan and the widow the Lord sustains, but the way of the wicked He thwarts)
James 2:1-5, 14-17 (Faith without works is like a screen door on a submarine)
Mark 7:31-37 ("Ephphatha! Be opened!")

Observations on this holiday that once marked the end of summer (that seems to have been taken by "National Night Out") and is supposed to honor our work and labor (yet to enjoy it generally forces somebody to work all the more):

More and more it appears that the places you once enjoyed that cost very little have become unaffordable. Case in point - on a beautiful day a lot like those we've enjoyed lately, on something of a whim, my wife and I introduced ourselves to the beauty that is the Chicago Botanical Garden. It is indeed a great place to visit, and I would recommend it to anyone - provided you don't take your own car. There is no admission charge to the park itself, even though there are fees to a number of seasonal exhibits. But the parking charge, controlled by the Cook County Forest Preserve District, has increased from $8 per car (when we first visited maybe five years ago) to $20 now. You can't picnic on the grounds - you can in the parking area and there is a smattering of tables; but this time of year picnicking is not that great an idea due to the onslaught of the hornets. So add another $20 - $30 for a meal out, and suddenly a nice inexpensive outing becomes cost prohibitive.

I have to say - thank God that at least in most of Illinois, the state, county and municipal parks do not charge simply to walk and enjoy the scenery. I know that in many places such is not true. We were able to change our plans and enjoy a great walk at a lovely forest preserve not far from home. It seemed that many other couples and families had the same idea.

For lunch, we headed to a place we hadn't entered in years - Chuck E. Cheese.

Now, dear readers, I sense your snickering. Hear me out.

The not-so-great pizza place with an act has been something of a refuge for my wife and I. Our son heads off to game land with his cup of tokens (reminder to self - never take him to a riverboat casino), and we get uninterrupted privacy; a chance to talk, plan, get an indication of what's on each other's minds and such. Even though he's now 17-1/2, there are still a number of games and attractions that appeal to him.

It was wonderful to observe on this visit that my son has become much more judicious in his decisions of what games to play, effectively stretching out the time it takes to spend the tokens. When he was younger, he'd exhaust his supply within the twenty minutes prep time for the pizza, and then be looking for more with only a scant glance at the food.

Another breakthrough was apparent in the way his social world has expanded . This time, he was more observant of our reaction of what he was doing. Further, he included other kids in his playtime. As an autistic, he has at times been completely engrossed in game play to the point that anyone nearby is completely oblivious to him.

Lastly, the place still does everything they can to give a family a safe place to enjoy a meal and entertainment at a reasonable price. Can't complain about that! So...I think maybe son will get a return pass a couple more times. Maybe even a party with Mom and Dad on his 18th birthday.

We got home and caught the last couple of hours of Jerry Lewis' MDA fund-raising telethon. This has been an annual Labor Day staple for 44 years. Lewis, now in his eighties, is struggling to maintain a stage presence. A lot of the big name talent of his time have died over the years; the most recent being Ed McMahon, who acted as Master of Ceremonies for many years. The telethon has lost much of its punch and appeal over the years, yet Lewis still manages to tag his corporate buddies to the tune of $60 million. A tough act, given the recession we're in.

Thinking about it this morning, I was prompted to consider how charitable I am. I prefer to do things at the local level, as I am fully aware that there are people suffering in my own neighborhood. I know there are homeless; I know people are hurting, and I try my best to meet that first. It's not that I don't appreciate the need to find treatments for people with catastrophic illnesses; we all deal with one or another of them. Some deal with more than one at a time.

What I observed that bothers me the most is the depths that people will sink to in order to appeal to your sense of guil...umm, charity. A local business pledges to match the total contributions received in a three-minute period. But when the clock gets down to ten seconds, it's suddenly reset for another three minutes...then four more, then five more, and another three, and still another two. This went on at least eight times during one local break.

If you participated in that, would you feel that you were living your faith, as the apostle James exhorts us? I am not sure.

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I had planned an educational field-trip to Chicago with my son tomorrow. The main objective was to see how commuter trains operate; to read a timetable and schedule of fares, to know how to find your train in a big terminal like Union Station (not unlike finding Platform 9-3/4 to get to Hogwarts, if you've read Harry Potter). However, Oprah Winfrey has other ideas. She's managed to close down three blocks of the Magnificent Mile (the posh Michigan Avenue business district) to tape the first show of her new season in front of fifty thousand adoring fans. Among her guests - the hottest act currently in pop music, the Black-Eyed Peas (21 straight weeks at the top of the charts) with a troupe of 2500 (reported) dancers. Where are they going to put them all? And what about the people who have to actually, say, work in that area? Is this another ploy that says We know how to throw a party! in order to secure hosting the 2016 Summer Olympics?

We'll make another stab at public transportation closer to Christmas...taking the free trolley between shopping centers at the regional shopping mall.

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The other day, I heard a news story about a series of TV ads that the three local Catholic dioceses will run in December. Developed by a ministerial group named Catholics Come Home (website at same, without the spaces, plus 'dot org'), they're mission is to return 'wayward' Catholics to Sunday Mass.

As clergy, I should be fully supportive of this. Like the fund raising for "Jerry's Kids, " however, I'm sensing a mixed-message.

I can't say these folks didn't do their homework. They report all kinds of statistics designed to make everything look appealing, welcoming, even sympathetic. Let's face it though. If you're in their target audience, you're a big-time sinner. They may not say so outright, but then they don't say anything about sins the Church may have committed to drive the disenfranchised away. Also notably lacking is any comment about issues facing the Church at large; issues that the Magisterium, the teaching body of the Church, has had no problem asserting its position in no uncertain terms. So, to some otherwise faithful people, the place to which they're being urged to come home is no different than the place they left. That just isn't enough.

I hope and I pray that each person sincerely seeking Christ will encounter him. I know it will be enhanced by finding a vibrant faith community. But that encounter doesn't always happen "in church." It didn't for Paul of Tarsus or Francis of Assisi.

And that, at last, brings me to the last of the "Signs for Our Times." As the traveling season ends and the patterns of life keep us closer to our dwellings, it is time to set aside our journey from that perspective and leave you with two thoughts. First, the sign:

And with all the confusion, to whom should we go for directions?

I surely hope for that.

Wherever you are on your spiritual journey, however rough the road may be, know that God is near.
Be open to God's presence, always.

August Recap, and Spiritual Hygiene

2009-08-29T08:15:00.000-05:00

The Twenty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time
August 30, 2009

The Word:
Deuteronomy 4:1-8 (The Israelites are handed the Law: "Do not add to what I command you nor subtract from it")
Psalm 15:2-5 (The just will live in the presence of the Lord)
James 1:17-27 (What A Christian Does, Revisited: "Humbly welcome the word that has been planted in you")
Mark 7:1-23 ("...Things that come out from within are what make unclean")

And - James 5:1-20 (What A Christian Gives)

Over the course of my life, the month of August has mirrored the spectrum of emotion - all the way from the extroverted frivolity of Mardi Gras to the introspective desert of Lent. Named for an ancient Roman emperor, Augustus, who likened himself to a god (as is July, named for Julius Caesar - the two months inserted into the Western calendar), it has reminded me of late of how artificial, vain, and unreal the "real" world can be.

When I was in grade school, the new academic year began the day after Labor Day - somewhere between the 2nd and the 9th of September. Suddenly, and without so much as a "welcome back", school started shortly after August 20.

The weather in Chicago this past month went from the hottest day of the summer (95 degrees on 8/2) to among the coolest (65 degrees today) in a summer that basically ended before it started.

In Europe, August is seen as a month-long holiday. Here in America, August is the single month to which no holiday is assigned. (While there are no legal holidays in March or April, schools take "Spring Break" in March and Good Friday/Easter occurs at either the tail end of March or in April.)

Earl passed away July 30; his memorial service was on August 8. Since then I have been called to sing at four Catholic funerals. Among all that was the coming and passing of my first son nineteen years ago.

My wife and I celebrated our 28th wedding anniversary quietly - and still managed, like so many others, to get caught up in the train wreck that is The Real Housewives of (fill in the blank), and wondering how long Jon and Kate Gosselin (estranged parents of eight) will take potshots at each other in the media before the reality of what they have become cancels their "reality" TV series.

My mother was released from a five-day hospital stay - but she didn't get to go home. Instead, she is now in a convalescent care center (nursing home) to continue to manage physical therapy, aggravated by Parkinson's Disease.

I went to visit her the other day, after work. My dad was there with her. They were preparing a bulk mailing, putting address labels and stamps on newsletters. (Dad called it "occupational therapy.") I sense my dad's frustration, and yet he is there, managing to do something other than watch time pass. One friend of my mom's also happens to be a resident of the same nursing home. She was in the room with my mom and dad and me. She thinks she's going home soon, and kept mentioning it while I was visiting. But there's little doubt in my mind that the three of us agree, this woman isn't likely to be leaving the nursing home anytime soon. My mom's got a better chance of getting released before her, and I don't think Mom's going to be going anywhere for at least a couple of months.

People who minister to the sick, the elderly, and the bereaved have to shield themselves (think in terms of an invisible plexiglass enclosure) from the reality they see. This doesn't mean we are indifferent; nor do we ignore those to whom we minister. But it means having a firm support system in place. It means having a compassionate partner, spouse, or network of friends and colleagues with whom to share and debrief.

It's also very important to see that you've tuned up your spiritual engine. Prayer becomes more than a wish list, as well it should be. It becomes more than the hymns you sing or the sermon to which you did your best to hear.

The Word this weekend touches on all this.

Moses was about to "lay down the Law" as the Israelites came to the threshold of the Promised Land. Of particular note was that the Law as God gave it was rather complete - nothing was to be added to it or removed from it. The apostle James knew that there were differences in interpretation among believers, and sought - in simplest and clearest terms - to instruct the community toward progressing, rather than in idle speculation.

Jesus gives us yet another paradox, and that brings us to the "Signs for Our Times":

It is interesting to note that as we leave the Bread of Life Discourse that when the miracle of the feeding of the multitudes took place, no mention was made of anybody washing anything. We return to Mark's account to find a complaint lodged against Jesus and his disciples as they didn't go through the ritual of washing every last thing before sitting down to eat. Obviously washing had become more than just the tribal knowledge that doing so was important to prevent disease.

Jesus responds by saying that his (and God's) sense of cleanliness is holistic. Further, if the mind and spirit are not clean, the state of the body is meaningless.

With all the attention paid to washing hands to prevent the spread of the H1N1 flu virus, with all the bitterness and anger being exchanged in town hall meetings across America "discussing" the "public option" in health care reform, this passage is indeed timely. If our leisure time is packed with Internet "What (fill in the blank) Are You?" surveys and waiting for the next celebrity wannabe to fall, are we not akin to another icon of ancient Rome, as spectators watching true Christians being thrown to the lions? Or Emperor Nero, playing his violin as the city of Rome burned?

There is a free "public option" for our spiritual health. It's available 24/7. It's called prayer.

Whether it is the recitation of common prayer, reflection on Scripture, or a few quiet moments pouring out your heart to God - these are our first and most important steps to remedy our ailments. Ultimately, if we are willing, we will be able to offer up virtually everything we do as prayer.

I have my moments. I'm no better at life than most of you. Lately I have understood the necessity of holistic cleansing in my life, and have renewed my commitment to do so, with prayer as a necessary step. Prayer for what I need. Prayer for what others need. Prayer to understand that my priorities are not necessarily God's.

Prayer works. It may not bring about the results you envision, but that does not mean it doesn't work. Sometimes that prayer is meant to help you stay on track, as it were, when the results don't meet the miracle.

In summary, Common Sense and the Law of God strongly recommend that you Pray Always...before leaving this room to resume work.

As For Me and My House...

2009-08-23T16:53:00.000-05:00

The Twenty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time

Today's Word:
Joshua 24:1-18 (As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord)
Psalm 34:2-3, 16-21 (Let my soul glory in the Lord...Taste and see the goodness of the Lord)
Ephesians 5:21-32 (Paul of Tarsus' often quoted and more often misunderstood treatise on married life)
John 6:60-69 (The Bread of Life Discourse, conclusion: "Do you also want to leave?")

And - James 4:1-17 (What a Christian Feels: 'Whoever wants to be a lover of the world makes himself an enemy of God')

On the eve of my son's 17th birthday last March, I posted in this journal a brief mention of the brother he has but has never known.

It was on this day nineteen years ago that a paradigm event for my wife and I came to its terrible end. Our first child, Adam Robert, was delivered stillborn in the 9 o'clock hour of the morning.

We had set out for a walk in our neighborhood the previous evening. We hadn't quite made it out the door when my wife's 'water broke' (as it's colloquially called), and before I knew what was happening, we were on our way to the hospital.

Within an hour of our arrival we were given the bad news by a doctor not our own (her OBGYN was on vacation at the time). During the long dark night of the soul that followed my focus was, out of love and necessity, on comforting my wife. Just the same, the nagging questions started to pop up. What had gone wrong? What did we do to deserve this? More importantly, How would we ultimately push through our panic-stricken, shock-numbing grief?

Looking back now and seeing where all this has taken us has been revealing.

For my wife, it was a big event that shaped her focus on health, holistic living, and ultimately, healing. Within two years she would lose one ovary and give birth to our (now seventeen-year-old) son. She has become acutely aware at various stages in her life about the effect much of modern lifestyle has on the body, and how that affects the mind and spirit as well. On her own she developed in her working memory a virtual encyclopedia of symptoms to ailments that would rival many professionals - and has a good handle on what she can treat.

For me, Adam's passing turned my focus in ministry formation toward bereavement. During my years as an active deacon this became being the parish minister at wakes. Since then, it has shifted to assisting at the funeral liturgy through my musical abilities. I don't see it stopping there. Not that I'm going to become a professional mourner (believe it or not, such a thing has been known to exist); but rather, continue to develop the lessons learned and the abilities I have to use them in the future.

In all of this is the bittersweet reminder of what was expected; what was supposed to be nineteen years ago. Truly, if Adam had been born in the normal course, everything would be different now. I might not be writing here; we might have been dealing with other 'soccer moms' and who-knows-what else; and our boy might not even have been named Adam!

Today's Sign for Our Times:

Actually, I found the text (minus the bogus phone number) on one of the type of sign one might use to advertise a garage sale or a political candidate; the type that has two small rods that you push into the ground. I found it at the end of an expressway exit near home. Thanks to a few Internet entrepreneurs, you can design your own signboard; as I've done here.

I know I asked questions of God back then - so many times I lost count. And there was a big issue - our pastor at the time never called or came by to offer condolences or guidance or even prayer. But in the depths of grief and despair, to whom else could I go?

Several ministers I know have occasionally preached that God offers many people a "second chance." Let me take this one step closer to what I sense is reality. In Jesus, God has offered everyone a second chance. Further, in his infinite love, God has offered us third, fourth, fifth, who knows how many chances. And we may never 'get it right' in our human vision. The way I see it, the biggest of life's lessons have come through difficult times. There's always a choice - to wallow in the pit or burn in the fire, or to rise above it and sharpen the resolve to do better.

As for me and my house, we shall rise...and serve.