Emmaus Revisited - The Journey Home

Easter Wednesday

Today's Word:
Acts 3:1-10 (Peter: "I have neither silver nor gold, but what I do have I give you: in the name of Jesus, rise and walk")
Psalm 105:1-9 (Rejoice, O hearts that seek the Lord)
Luke 24:13-35 (Emmaus Revisited: "Were not our hearts burning within us as he spoke to us on the way?")

Is it possible that it took being brought to the lowest point in my life to truly witness the presence of the unseen God?

I had lost nearly everything. I was out of work for nearly seven months; I felt too disgraced to set foot in the parish where I had served. I was contacted about a potential job opportunity 120 miles from anybody I knew; I went to be interviewed but it never panned out. (Well, not until two weeks after I accepted the position I currently hold.) Many people honestly thought I had indeed moved away. Eventually that also happened, and it had to happen quickly. Not because of anything my wife or I had done or failed to do; my original landlords had passed away and their son could not afford to keep and maintain the place, so he ultimately sold it. Sandwiched in all of this was the ultimate in personal financial disaster.

When you feel sad
Or under a curse
Your life is bad
Your prospects are worse
Your wife is crying, sighing
And your olive tree is dying
Temples are graying
Teeth are decaying
And creditors weighing your purse... (how did he know?)

Your mood and your robe
Are both a deep blue
You'd bet that Job
Had nothing on you
Don't forget that when you get to Heaven
You'll be blessed
Yes, it's all for the best

--All For The Best (excerpt) from Godspell (1970)
Stephen Schwartz

I tried getting reestablished in the parish in my neighborhood, the one I attended as a child; the one where I met Charles; the one where it all began. That wasn't working, either. What seemed to be working was Cornerstone.

Cornerstone was birthed in 1999, as two other established communities merged. For the first five years their services were held in a school gymnasium. I would take my son there, as I had no reason not to. The atmosphere was less formal, and the music was more contemporary. (Unless you're watching a hockey or baseball game, an organ seems out of place in a school gymnasium.) My son liked the upbeat music, and liked having me at his side, something I had been unable to do. Even on the occasions when I would sing (at my friend Mike's request), my son came with me and I was able to sit with him most of the time - and had him in eyesight when I was busy.

When the new building at Cornerstone was ready, a new innovation was added - multimedia. This did away with program sheets and hymnals; everything was projected on screens. This also gave Pastor Paul the ability to throw in video clips that assisted in whatever the week's theme was. I explained to my son that this was all done with computers. He had become quite familiar with what technology could do. I'm guessing that this really appealed to him; in any case he would look forward to each trip.

Meanwhile, the director at Ascension (the Catholic parish at which I now serve) contacted me early in 2001. I am surprised she found me. (In retrospect, we hadn't moved yet and our phone number hadn't changed, so I shouldn't have been so shocked.) She was looking for male singers for the choir there - and there was a stipend involved, more than I'd ever known about.Advantage:  I would be compensated. Disadvantage: church was 25 miles away, and I wasn't sure I was ready to go through all this again.

I had to think about this. I had to pray over it. And I wanted to consult with the two people that knew me best.

First, I ran this by my wife. She had never wanted me to quit everything, but to understand what was most important. She told me that I had been completely miserable over the nearly two years that I was not active. Now that my employment was stable, she said that I should go back. A part of me was always going to be attached to God through the Church and she did not want to hold that back. The compensation more than covered the expense of driving there and back. I told her the minute it should get out of hand I would quit.

Next, I talked to my friend Mike. As a paid musician himself, he didn't give it a second thought. Take it, he said. I realize now that he lived by those words.

With that, I accepted the offer. It wasn't all that simple, though. There was my son's interest at Cornerstone. It was the best chance he had at learning about community. It was also a place where people talked to him. And I was interested as well. Between Mike and Pastor Paul, I realized that here was something I didn't want to set aside thoughtlessly. So whenever my schedule allowed it, I'd take my son and head out to Cornerstone. People there were always happy to see us. They still are.

I have become a modern day "wandering minstrel."

At the present time, though, I can't think of a better place to be. I have one foot resting in the roots of holy tradition. In order to know where you are, you need to know where you've been. The other foot is resting in fresh, new ground; and the freshness of that message speaks to me as loudly as does tradition. There are some who think that could be wrong, especially among those clinging more to tradition. I politely disagree. To me, one complements the other. Our theological differences (more a stumbling block politically at the point they were made nearly 500 years ago) should not keep us apart.

I owe it to my son to give him the backdrop, the spiritual safety net he needs. In my mind, there is nothing wrong with being part of two places. If one is sincerely following God, he or she will go wherever God leads - even if it runs against the current. After all, God worked through Moses to part the Red Sea!

There will always be those who disagree. They don't know me well enough to understand that this way works; they only shake their heads and through body language state that this is something they're just not interested in doing, even once.

I've had a few lengthier conversations with Pastor Paul when opportunities arose. In one of his conversations I remember him telling me that I "got it." I make no such claim; we only get it fully when we reach the journey's end. I am not there yet; and I am not foolish enough to think that I'm even close. What I claim is that every good thing comes from God. We shouldn't balk at taking chances based on human interpretation of God's presence and/or Jesus' teaching in our lives. We must always strive to look past the naysayers and the purveyors of doom and gloom. We must take life seriously, one day at a time.

Today is the first day of the rest of your life, make the best of it. Hope is ours! We will make it to the Promised Land, to the place we're supposed to be!

Can you hear, there's a new song
Breaking out from the children of freedom
Every race and every nation
Sing it out sing a new Hallelujah

Let us sing love to the nations
Bringing hope of the grace that has freed us
Make Him known and make Him famous
Sing it out sing a new Hallelujah

Arise!
Let the church arise!
Let love reach to the other side
Alive come alive
Let the song arise

Oh yes I sing a new song
Reaching out with a new Hallelujah
Every son and every daughter
Everyone sing a new Hallelujah

Arise!
Let the song arise
Let love reach to the other side
Alive come alive
Let the song arise

Whoa whoa yeah
Let the song arise
Let the song arise yeah (2x)

(Spoken)
Let the world sing a new Hallelujah
From Africa to Australia
From Brazil to China
From New York to Chicago!

Arise!
Let the Church arise!
Let love reach to the other side!
Alive - Come alive -
Let the song arise!!

Everyone sing a new Hallelujah!! (2x)

--A New Hallelujah (2008)
Michael W. Smith

Déjà Vu

Today's Word:
Micah 7:14-15, 18-20 (Who is like you, God, that pardons for the remnant of his inheritance?)
Psalm 103:1-4, 9-12 (He pardons all thy sins/Prolongs thy feeble breath/He healeth thine infirmities/And ransoms thee from death...)
Luke 15:1-32 (The parable of the lost son)

I had intended today to take a day off from the meanderings of my mind thus far. The coming week is a big one with several built-in concepts; from any it is relatively easy to write. I was simply going to offer a moment of mirth in the form of a video clip from YouTube that could allow you an opportunity to see God's hand in the otherwise silly and ridiculous. I'm still going to post that separately; you'll have to actually visit the blog site on the web to see it.

Out of habit I went to review the Lectionary citations for today, and realized that I could not let this one pass.

My dear wife has mentioned that I might be a bit hard on myself in examining where I've been and what I do. Today I turn the clock back to last summer and promise you I'm not down on myself.

Last July I had the opportunity to follow a devotional series that Pastor Paul and the community at Cornerstone put together, titled "Thirty Days of Grace." Designed to help keep vacationing members of the congregation up to speed, it was a series of daily devotionals plus the outlines of all the Sunday sermons for five weeks.

As a wandering minstrel I liked this concept. I could keep up with the series and not miss anything, even though my schedule might have me singing with the other church. But through some strange chance act, I found that I had several consecutive Sundays unscheduled (I was scheduled to sing Saturdays), so my son and I went to Cornerstone and took it all in.

One of the major themes in the series came from Luke's rendering of Jesus' parable of the prodigal/lost son. This was not the first time I felt I could identify with the young wanderer. I have definitely felt at times that I've squandered my share of the inheritance; maybe not on loose women, but there were definite excesses.

I was given an opportunity to sing a song that has become very near and dear to my heart.

Almighty God,
The Great I Am
Immovable Rock,
Omnipotent, powerful
Awesome Lord,
Victorious Warrior
Mighty Conquerer,
Commanding King of Kings
And the only time,
the only time I ever saw Him run

Was when He ran to me,
Took me in His arms, held my head to His chest
And said "My son's come home again".
Looked in my face, wiped the tears from my eyes
With forgiveness in His voice
He said "Son, do you know I still love you?"

It caught me by surprise when God ran

The day I left Home,
I knew I'd broken His heart
I wondered if
Things would ever be the same,

Then one night,
I remembered His love for me
And down that dusty road, ahead I could see
It was the only time,
the only time I ever saw Him run

Was when He ran to me,
Took me in His arms, held my head to His chest
And said "My son's come home again".
Looked in my face, wiped the tears from my eyes
With forgiveness in His voice
He said "Son, do you know I still love you?"

It caught me by surprise, It dropped me to my knees
When God ran

Holy God, Righteous One
Who turned my way
Now I know, He's been waiting
For this day

The day He ran to me,
Took me in His arms, held my head to His chest
And said "My son's come home again".
Looked in my face, wiped the tears from my eyes
With forgiveness in His voice
I felt his love for me again
He ran to me,
Took me in His arms, held my head to His chest
And said "My son's come home again".
Looked in my face, wiped the tears from my eyes
With forgiveness in His voice
He said "Son!"
He said "Son!!!"
"My son, do you know I still love you??"

Oh, he ran to me
When God ran...

--When God Ran (1987)
Benny Hester

Powerful song, right?

And it got more powerful each time I sang it. Not just in rehearsal, and not just during worship; for you see, for some reason it was scheduled for three weeks straight. Paul and Jeff (the worship coordinator at Cornerstone) may have had their reasons. I had a personal encounter. It didn't take much time for me to relate these three times to Peter's three-fold reaffirmation of his love for Jesus (John 21:15-19). This was no coincidence. My open schedule last summer and the recurrence of this song was something I was meant to experience. I've had a hard time forgiving myself; this was God's way of telling me in a way I could understand that it's really okay. I had finally come home.

On the third occasion of singing When God Ran, another song framed the reading and preaching on the parable of the lost son. Though I've never sung it, I've made it mine as well.

I drug his name through godless places
And I've known shame that no child of his should know
I've seen pain on broken faces
Beyond all thought of hope
I was just too far from home
Still I always wondered when I closed my eyes

After all I've done
Could he run to me?
Would he kiss my face?
Could he even look at me?
After where I've been
should he take me back?
I would understand
I've disgraced him
But it would be amazing
If he still calls me son

With nothing left for me to bring him
I left my pride and turned my heart toward home
I saw my home on the horizon
And from a distance
I saw my Father
Watching for his own with forgiving eyes

After all I'd done
He just ran to me
Then he kissed my face
He would not let go of me
After where I'd been
He just welcomed me
I didn't understand
But he put his robe on me
It was so amazing
That he still called me son

One day as I breathe my last
And I know my days on earth have ended
When every hour is spent
I will close my eyes in amazement
And I'll hear angels
They'll be singing

Amazing Grace
Cause he will run to me
And he will kiss my face
He will not let go of me
After where I've been
He will welcome me
I won't understand
How he'll put his robe on me
It will be amazing
That he'll still call me son

Amazing grace how sweet the sound
When he calls me son
I once was lost but now I'm found
Cause he calls me Son

--Still Calls Me Son (2007)
John Waller

It is good that the reminders of joy and grace have come at this point. We're not quite halfway through the season. Much focus will be placed on the ugly reality of the events that allowed us to receive the grace that empowers and calls us to be sons and daughters of God.

Footnote: I started out this blog talking about a leap of faith taken by Mike, my organist friend. Due to budget cuts he'd lost his position on the Cornerstone staff, and had quickly found a new position at another church, one very much suited to his repertoire. I learned yesterday that his 'day job' as a teaching assistant and accompanist at my high school alma mater has been been eliminated, again due to budget cuts. He's in my prayers. I have walked that road once, and at the time it was Mike who had a big hand in showing me a direction. May he find himself not wanting.

A Tribute to Bert

One of the areas of ministry in which I have been called upon to serve, both as ordained minister and as a pastoral musician, is bereavement. As a deacon I would represent the parish community at the wake service and lead prayers; as a musician, I am called upon to sing at funeral services. I'm blessed with a flexible work schedule that allows me to be present for others at a time of loss.

I wasn't necessarily predisposed to serve in the bereavement ministry. Indeed, I really wasn't accustomed to attend wakes or funerals, even as a teen. My wife and her siblings will tell you that I had a rough time (to put it mildly) the first time I attended a wake and funeral on her side of the family. Without going into a lot of verbiage, the experience was a wake-up call. It and other events like it made me appreciate the presentation on grief ministry that was part of my overall formation and studies for the diaconate.

Now let me tell you about Bert.

Bert 'entered eternal life', as is sometimes said when someone passes away, one year ago last Friday. His funeral Mass was held one year ago today.

I know Bert through the coattail relationships of marriage. Bert's daughter-in-law and my wife are sisters. As such, Bert and his wife Jenny were usually invited to all the extended family gatherings. They were usually present and happy to be among family.

I knew Bert for well over 20 years, but honestly didn't know a lot about him. Everything indicates that by the time I made his acquaintance, he had already retired from full time work. He and Jenny owned an apartment building in Chicago, near one of the old Polish neighborhoods; on weekends he and his son would do much of the maintenance of the building. If nothing else was pressing and the weather was good, they might catch a White Sox game at the old Comiskey Park. Bert was apparently a Sox fan.

It seemed to me that Bert always gave you respect. He was gracious enough to ask me how I was doing; he and I would often enter discussions about issues and how they affected Catholics. If I made a point with which he disagreed, he was still genuinely polite and courteous.

Bert and his son also introduced me to one of the crown jewels of Chicago church architecture, St. Mary of the Angels. Though Bert and Jenny had moved out of the city years earlier, this was their 'home' church. When the call came for donations to renovate and restore its aging structure, Bert contributed. When the Archdiocese of Chicago hinted that lowering attendance threatened to close the church, Bert and others from the old neighborhood signed petitions. They would also drive into the city and attend Mass there if circumstances allowed. It was from this historic church that Bert received his rites of passage from here to eternity.

When the word came that Bert had passed away, I went to Chicago to represent my wife's side of the family at the wake. I had already committed to sing at another funeral Mass the following day, but promised I'd try to catch up with the family afterward; either at the cemetery or at the luncheon. I had gone on no pretenses other than to be present for the family. However, because I was known to Bert and his son as a deacon, the son wanted me to lead at the wake. I told him quite frankly that it wasn't my place to do so, not being attached to the church Bert was from. But the son was insistent, and when the priest from the church ran late, I finally agreed to lead prayer. At that point I also promised I would meet him at the cemetery, even though it meant sitting in my car in a huge cemetery on a cold March day unsure as to when they would arrive.

Bert might have asked for a small favor from God; it may just have been a blessing of grace. I noticed the remembrance cards, and took one which I carry with me nearly every place. I also have a framed portrait of the same image from the card. It is an image of Jesus, welcoming home the newcomer. I received that portrait at the end of last summer, from my friend Pastor Paul, as a reminder of the journey we're all on and what we ultimately long for. It's another story in itself, but if it hadn't been for Bert, I might have missed at least some of it.

The morning of the funeral there was a gap in time between the start of the two services, even though they were fifteen miles apart. And the Mass at which I was to sing started even earlier than expected. Making some calculations, there was a chance I could still catch Bert's procession before it left the city. It was a close call. It had been some time since I'd last been to St. Mary of the Angels; I wasn't sure I remembered exactly where it was; traffic approaching downtown Chicago was slowing down as it generally tends to do. I made it to the church only minutes before Bert's funeral Mass ended. The son was outside waiting. We made the long procession out to the cemetery, practically around the corner from Bert's suburban home, where I gave the prayers at the graveside. Though cold and biting, it came to me that I should sing. Bert was a bit more traditional, so I offered one of the classics; here, a bit updated.

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
That saved and set me free,
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind but now I see.

Twas grace that taught my heart to fear
And grace my fears relieved,
How precious did that grace appear
The hour I first believed.

My chains are gone, I've been set free,
My God, my saviour has ransomed me,
And like a flood his mercy reigns,
Unending love, amazing grace.

The Lord has promised good to me,
His word my hope secures,
He will my shield and portion be
As long as life endures.

My chains are gone, I've been set free,
My God, my saviour has ransomed me,
And like a flood his mercy reigns,
Unending love, amazing grace.

The earth shall soon dissolve like snow,
The sun forbear to shine,
But God who called me here below
Will be forever mine,
Will be forever mine,
You are forever mine.

My chains are gone!!
I've been set free!!
My God, my saviour has ransomed me!!!
And like a flood his mercy reigns
Unending love, amazing grace...

--John Newton and Chris Tomlin