Remembering Dusty

February 24, 2009 - May 29, 2019

Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge. 

When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor. Those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent. His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together....

Author unknown...

Until . . .

Memorial Day

The American Revolutionary War

4,435 Casualties

The War of 1812

2,260 Casualties

World War I

116,516 Casualties

World War II

405,399 Casualties

Korean War

36,574 Casualties

Vietnam War

56,220 Casualties

Desert ShieldDesert Storm

383 Casualties

Enduring Freedom/Iraqi Freedom

6,775 Casualties

Memorial Day!

And we are called to remember, to honor, and to give thanks for those who have paid the ultimate price and given their lives for our freedom.

And as we do so, I find myself reminded that for us, Catholic Christians, actually every day is a "Memorial Day."

We are a people who hear that mandate from Jesus, "Do This in Memory of Me."

And to do "This" means that we gather at table with bread and wine and remember. We remember the One who willingly gave His life for us. He took that cross and climbed that hill and bowed His head and gave His life.

So that we might have freedom, true freedom.

As we gather around that bread and wine, we remember that the Source of freedom, true freedom is God.

No document, no piece of paper, even that signed and sealed in those hallowed halls of Philadelphia give us freedom. Truth be told, that document acknowledges this truth, "All are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights."

True freedom comes from God.

Our document delineates some of those freedoms: speech, assembly, press, worship, and such but that document does not go far enough.

The One who gave His life for us on that cross gives to us the greatest of all freedoms: freedom from sin and freedom from death.

We remember the One Who gives His life so that we might be free.

We remember those who have paid the ultimate price to preserve that freedom.

We give thanks.

And we pray: Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord.

                      And let perpetual light shine upon them.

Memorial Day!

How Do We Solve the Problem . . .

I can remember when it was possible to come in at the end of a movie. We would then take our seats, watch the final fifteen or twenty minutes and then remain in place while the movie began again. When the scene came on that marked our entry into the theater, we would simple get up, declare, "This is where we came in," and we would leave!
A strange way to go to the movies.
I was reminded of this as I looked at the Scripture readings of this coming Sunday in the Roman Lectionary. In particular the very first passage, from Acts of the Apostles (Acts 15: 1-2; 22-29) reads like we have come into something at the tail end! (The Revised Common Lectionary uses a different passage as a first reading.)
Anyhow, for those using the Roman Lectionary, when that first reading begins, you just get the feeling that you have missed something. You are coming in after whatever. If you are familiar with Acts or with our history, you will know the background to this passage. Something, indeed, has happened, something very major, something that speaks volumes to us today as Church!
Backing up to the point before we came into the story today - Paul and Barnabas had been on a missionary journey. Everywhere they went, the same story developed. They would go to the synagogue to preach and Paul, of course, would talk about Jesus and how He is thee fulfillment of the Promise.
Paul and Barnabas met with rejection, sometimes violent. Not welcomed in the synagogue, they did find welcome among the Gentiles. Here they found acceptance of the Good News of Jesus. The Gentiles were eager for the waters of Baptism. They wanted the Presence of the Spirit confirming them in their faith. And Paul and Barnabas complied. The love of Jesus for them gave them a sense of self-worth.
However, word of Gentile eagerness and how they were being received into the Church reached back to Jerusalem and the churches in the surrounding areas. Here the Church was rooted in the ancient Jewish history, traditions, rituals and regulations. Here the question arose: are these Gentiles, lacking in all of this, to be considered "full" Christians? Should they not have all of this background and should they not be following the ancient rituals and laws?
There was a growing movement to treat the Gentiles as somehow second class followers of Jesus.
So Paul and Barnabas journeyed to Jerusalem. A council was held. Viewpoints were exchanged. Experiences were shared. Scriptures were studied and prayers were offered.
The decision emerged: The Holy Spirit is showing us that the Gentiles should not be treated as second class disciples! They are as fully loved by Jesus as are we!
What was happening back then was actually the Church seeking her identity.
How do we in our time and with our circumstances reflect to others, to the Gentiles, the love of Jesus Christ for them?
This was at the heart of being Church.
We face that same question today in the twenty-first century.
How do we deal with the Gentiles of our time?
And we have many. Pope Francis has in many ways been trying to point us toward the Gentiles of our time.
As a result questions for today are emerging.
How do we reflect the love of Jesus to those divorced, remarried folks?
How do we reflect the love of Jesus to that growing number of  couples who do not even consider a walk down some aisle?
How reflect the love of Jesus to those parents who would rather spend their Sunday morning cheering their kid's soccer team than spend it giving thanks to the Lord?
And what about our Catholic CEO's? You know - Christmas and Easter Only - does Jesus love them?
And add to the list the LGBTQ's - living so long in the shadows but now beginning to emerge in increasing numbers into the spotlight.
And the list grows and grows.
We look around at our world today and the question is there - how should we be Church in the twenty-first century?
The essence of Church is reflecting the love that Jesus has.
Now,  maybe you might simply say, "Why should I care?"
But truth is - Jesus cares.
And if Jesus cares, then we, His disciples, should also care!
We should want to be the best Church possible for our time.

A Painting and A Purpose (Epilogue)

So,
 the painting of the Divine Mercy that was unwanted back in the 1970's and early 1980's has now found a home. It is located at the Dominican Sisters of Peace Oxford, Michigan Motherhouse. Hopefully, it will continue to find a home there and, if ever the situation should change, trustingly it will be provided still another suitable home.
Meantime, I thought you might enjoy this bit of an epilogue to the story.
When he gave this painting to me, my Uncle Bill was left with a great big blank spot on the wall directly facing his front door. Needless to say, it was a rather ugly blank spot. After all, this painting had hung there for many a year and, well, you know what happens to a wall when something stays in place for an extended period of time.
Yep!
The rather clear outline created by paint exposed and fading over time. There were evident markings of something now missing.
Uncle Bill had to face that reminder of this newly created empty space.
Finally, he resolved to find something to replace the painting and fill that space. I guess buying some sort of wall decoration was easier than having the place repainted!
Eventually he found his replacement, exactly the right size. He purchased it, took it home and filled that vacant space.
It was only a few weeks later that Uncle Bill was gone from us. I still speculate about how he sensed his final "mission" as having been accomplished. The painting had a home and so he could go Home.
Sometime after the funeral, our family gathered at his condo. It was a Sunday afternoon and along with enjoying a take-out dinner together, we had a sort of rummage sale. Actually, sale is inappropriate. Everyone was invited to rummage around. If you found anything you wanted, mark it.
At the end of that afternoon, items were dispersed. Those with a single marking went to the one who had claimed them. Those with multiple markings went in a sort of drawing.
Everything was available. Anything remaining was headed to the St. Vincent dePaul Society.
The Divine Mercy replacement remained unclaimed!
And I do need to mention here that it was in no way an actual religious image item. Uncle Bill bought it because it was the right size.
And it "spoke" to him.
When I realized that in a sense, I was responsible for the wall "outline" and therefore also responsible for that replacement and when I realized that no one else in our then still rather large family wanted this picture, I claimed it.
It could not go to St. Vincent dePaul!
It went home with me.
And it is still with me.
It hangs today in my apartment on the wall by my front door.
And since I do have a photo of it, I can share it with you now.
Uncle Bill was a golfer.
When he saw this painting, he bought it because he said it depicts every golfer's nightmares!
It's got water,
and rough
and sand!

A Golfer's Nightmares:

RIP

WILLIAM C. KUSIAK

August 25, 2003

Age 87