I don't care what that song proclaims about those days late in November through all of December, this is the most wonderful time of the year!
That's right! As far as I am concerned, this is the most wonderful time of the year. It starts now and, this year will continue through the very last day of May.
The truly most wonderful time of the year - Lent/Triduum/Easter.
Cannot beat it!
Other days may be appealing. Other days may be filled with fond memories and rich, good feelings but no other time of the year even comes close to these days - the days from Ash Wednesday all the way through to Pentecost Sunday.
This is truly the Most Wonderful Time of the Year!
We have entered the time of Lent - 43 2/3 days. (I know. We always speak of forty days but if you do an actual count from Ash Wednesday to the Wednesday of Holy Week counts out to 43 days. And then on Holy Thursday the instruction is that Lent ends with the beginning of the Evening Mass of the Lord's Supper on Holy Thursday. Thus 43 2/3 days.)
This vast span of time begins by inviting us to do, to give and to give up. Doesn't sound much like a wonderful time.
And starting this whole thing with ashes and those words, "Remember, you are dust and to dust you shall return." Well, that doesn't exactly sound like an invitation to jump for joy!
But what, really, is happening here? Or should be happening here?
How about - this is a time for crafting a living love story or a living love-poem?
Approaching the Lenten Season, ask yourself: Why am I doing whatever it is that I am choosing for Lent? Why?
What is your motivation?
Obvious answers come back, especially after hearing that bit about returning to dust!
I'm doing what I do to makeup for my sins - to show my sorrow - as penance for what I have/have not done.
And that is all fine and good but what happens if we dare to dig deeper.
Why be sorry?
Why want to repent?
Could it be that somewhere deep down it is possible to find a trace of something called "love"?
Deep down we just might discover that it is our love for God, our love for Jesus that drives us to be sorry for the wrong we have done, the good we have not done.
Discover that love; admit to that love and watch what begins to happen to the disciplines we choose for Lent.
Driven by love, we work to show through Lent the primacy of God in our lives.
Extra prayer time means extra time spent with our Beloved.
Extra good works means extras acts as demonstrations of love for our Beloved.
Suddenly the time of Lent begins to be transformed into something beautiful - a love story in action.
It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year.
And then comes Triduum - those unspeakable days of wonder.
Love story? No greater love has anyone than this - to lay down one's life for one's friends.
And we see and remember and celebrate God's great love for us as witnessed in Jesus Christ. God is not to be outdone in loving!
It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year.
And all of that is followed by those Fifty Days of festival unlike any other in all of human history, fifty days to celebrate the beauty that emerges from God's love for us and ours for God - life, fullness of life, eternal life.
By the time our journey has coursed through the days of Lent and Triduum, even nature itself is getting more beautiful, more radiant! Mother Nature cannot hold back any longer. She begins to join the great prom of love!
In all the days of the year, what days can possibly compare with those of Lent/Triduum/Easter?
We have come to those days.
We have come to the Most Wonderful Time of the Year.
Write a beautiful love story.
Etch a beautiful love poem.
Sing a beautiful love song.
What wondrous love is this, Oh my soul, oh my soul? What wondrous love is this, oh my soul?
It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year.
Wednesday, February 26, 2020
Monday, February 24, 2020
Happy Birthday, Little Guy
February 24 . . . time to say, "Happy Birthday" and hope you can hear that wherever you are now, Little Guy.
The "Little Guy," Dusty, would have been eleven today.
Or maybe not.
It is really impossible to know for sure when a dog's birthday really is, especially when they are originally a rescue.
Someone in the know estimates their age and then creativity sets it to determine a date of birth.
So based on guesstamated age, Dusty would be turning eleven.
And based on creativity, it would be today.
And that is because it is February 24.
I received Dusty on the day before Ash Wednesday.
I was informed by his handlers that he had been called Dusty but that I was free to give him a new name.
But why?
Dusty is a perfectly good name.
I should know.
My surname is Kurzawa and translating from Polish to American it is: storm, strong storm, violent storm, winter storm (blizzard) or sand storm (desert storm.)
So, while in college at the Polish Seminary (where many knew at least smatterings of Polish,) I acquired the nickname of "Dusty." For those four years in college that was what I heard when someone was calling me. I was the Dust Storm! Dusty!
So Dusty is a perfectly good name.
It's the family name.
So, when told I could give this little guy any name I wanted, I chose to stick with Dusty. We shared the same name even though my being called by that had disappeared many years ago.
Anyhow, Dusty seemed like a perfectly good name.
Besides it was the day before Ash Wednesday.
"Remember, you are dust and to dust you shall return!"
Why not?
And with that kind of start, determining his "birthday" led to looking back to 2009. That would be the year guesstimated as his birth year.
So when was Ash Wednesday that year?
After all, with a name like his, with his arrival on the day before Ash Wednesday, seemed most logical to locate Ash Wednesday in the guesstimated year of his birth and then give him an actual "birthday."
Ash Wednesday 2009 was February 25. So the day before was, obviously, the 24th.
And so the 24th of February became the declared birthday of a little critter named Dusty.
And it is here again.
February 24, 2020.
Only Dusty is not.
So we just have to have a "birthday" without the guest of honor.
And he will not be curling up in his favorite blanket and he will not be squeaking one of his silly toys and he will not be napping and snoring like a tiger.
And there are no special treats for him -- not this year.
Not here.
It's his birthday without Dusty.
So I guess this will just have to be a day of remembering and hoping that the Little Guy can feel someone saying," Happy Birthday, Little Guy!"
And Wednesday will be dust without Dusty.
The "Little Guy," Dusty, would have been eleven today.
Or maybe not.
It is really impossible to know for sure when a dog's birthday really is, especially when they are originally a rescue.
Someone in the know estimates their age and then creativity sets it to determine a date of birth.
So based on guesstamated age, Dusty would be turning eleven.
And based on creativity, it would be today.
And that is because it is February 24.
I received Dusty on the day before Ash Wednesday.
I was informed by his handlers that he had been called Dusty but that I was free to give him a new name.
But why?
Dusty is a perfectly good name.
I should know.
My surname is Kurzawa and translating from Polish to American it is: storm, strong storm, violent storm, winter storm (blizzard) or sand storm (desert storm.)
So, while in college at the Polish Seminary (where many knew at least smatterings of Polish,) I acquired the nickname of "Dusty." For those four years in college that was what I heard when someone was calling me. I was the Dust Storm! Dusty!
So Dusty is a perfectly good name.
It's the family name.
So, when told I could give this little guy any name I wanted, I chose to stick with Dusty. We shared the same name even though my being called by that had disappeared many years ago.
Anyhow, Dusty seemed like a perfectly good name.
Besides it was the day before Ash Wednesday.
"Remember, you are dust and to dust you shall return!"
Why not?
And with that kind of start, determining his "birthday" led to looking back to 2009. That would be the year guesstimated as his birth year.
So when was Ash Wednesday that year?
After all, with a name like his, with his arrival on the day before Ash Wednesday, seemed most logical to locate Ash Wednesday in the guesstimated year of his birth and then give him an actual "birthday."
Ash Wednesday 2009 was February 25. So the day before was, obviously, the 24th.
And so the 24th of February became the declared birthday of a little critter named Dusty.
And it is here again.
February 24, 2020.
Only Dusty is not.
So we just have to have a "birthday" without the guest of honor.
And he will not be curling up in his favorite blanket and he will not be squeaking one of his silly toys and he will not be napping and snoring like a tiger.
And there are no special treats for him -- not this year.
Not here.
It's his birthday without Dusty.
So I guess this will just have to be a day of remembering and hoping that the Little Guy can feel someone saying," Happy Birthday, Little Guy!"
And Wednesday will be dust without Dusty.
Sunday, February 23, 2020
And So . . .
Awake from your slumber,
Arise from your sleep!
A new day is dawning for all those who weep!
. . . Let us build a City of God,
Let our tears be turned into laughter . . .
With those words we gathered at the foot of the altar in Oxford and the People of God sang out.
And then the procession began,
that final procession down the aisle of that chapel.
Cross-bearer in the lead,
the Dominican prioress and her companion from the governing board,
three Benedictine priest neighbors,
the pastor of the local parish, St. Joseph the Worker in Lake Orion,
the faithful Jesuit, Fr. Harry Sanford,
and the presider.
. . . Let us build a City of God
And it was over!
The final Eucharist had been offered.
The final word had been spoken.
The final song had been sung.
It was over!
. . . Let us build a City of God
It was over but the People of God were not quite finished, not just yet. There were pictures to take and introductions to be made and old acquaintances to be renewed and conversations.
There were memories, many, many memories to share.
And there was food!
Sandwiches and shrimp and potato salad and desserts and lemonade.
And music!
Yes, there was even music and occasionally someone would boldly and bravely get up to dance.
We would celebrate our memories and our gratitude and the blessings that had come all through the years from that Religious Community whose Oxford house was now being shuttered.
People of faith know how to count blessings instead of wallowing in losses.
Let our tears be turned into laughter . . .
But as could be expected, the day pressed on, the time grew late and little by little the crowd began to thin.
It was time to go home.
It was time to move on.
It was time to say, "Good bye."
And the halls emptied and began to echo silence,
and emptiness.
It was over!
The rooms and the halls are empty now.
The lights are out.
The doors are locked.
The building is closed now.
Only echos of past laughter remain,
and past voices, long ago gone silent,
and lessons taught,
and homilies preached,
and songs sung.
This spring the sand cranes will look around at the emptiness and wonder,
"Who will feed us?"
It is over now, truly over.
. . . Let us build a City of God
Arise from your sleep!
A new day is dawning for all those who weep!
. . . Let us build a City of God,
Let our tears be turned into laughter . . .
With those words we gathered at the foot of the altar in Oxford and the People of God sang out.
And then the procession began,
that final procession down the aisle of that chapel.
Cross-bearer in the lead,
the Dominican prioress and her companion from the governing board,
three Benedictine priest neighbors,
the pastor of the local parish, St. Joseph the Worker in Lake Orion,
the faithful Jesuit, Fr. Harry Sanford,
and the presider.
. . . Let us build a City of God
And it was over!
The final Eucharist had been offered.
The final word had been spoken.
The final song had been sung.
It was over!
. . . Let us build a City of God
It was over but the People of God were not quite finished, not just yet. There were pictures to take and introductions to be made and old acquaintances to be renewed and conversations.
There were memories, many, many memories to share.
And there was food!
Sandwiches and shrimp and potato salad and desserts and lemonade.
And music!
Yes, there was even music and occasionally someone would boldly and bravely get up to dance.
We would celebrate our memories and our gratitude and the blessings that had come all through the years from that Religious Community whose Oxford house was now being shuttered.
People of faith know how to count blessings instead of wallowing in losses.
Let our tears be turned into laughter . . .
But as could be expected, the day pressed on, the time grew late and little by little the crowd began to thin.
It was time to go home.
It was time to move on.
It was time to say, "Good bye."
And the halls emptied and began to echo silence,
and emptiness.
It was over!
The rooms and the halls are empty now.
The lights are out.
The doors are locked.
The building is closed now.
Only echos of past laughter remain,
and past voices, long ago gone silent,
and lessons taught,
and homilies preached,
and songs sung.
This spring the sand cranes will look around at the emptiness and wonder,
"Who will feed us?"
It is over now, truly over.
. . . Let us build a City of God
Saturday, February 22, 2020
The Closing Homily: A Final Thought
(This is the conclusion of the homily given on the occasion of the Closing of the Dominican Motherhouse in Oxford, Michigan. For the full homily, begin with the blog published on Monday, February 17 and continue daily to this.)
I would like to end with a quote from one of Detroit's beloved.
Actually, he was not a native Detroiter.
He adopted us and we, proudly, have adopted him.
I am speaking of Solanus Casey, Blessed Solanus Casey.
Solanus Casey knew endings. He experienced a very painful one.
He dreamed of becoming a priest and that dream was fulfilled. However, his superiors determined that he did not have the intellectual capabilities necessary to fully exercise the office of priesthood. As a result he would never be allowed to preach a sermon and he would never be allowed to hear a confession.
The fulness of his dream came to an end.
His task would be that of porter. He would open the door for people and let them in.
And so he began.
Solanus Casey embraced the beginning that God set out for him.
He opened the door for people, many people, increasing numbers of people. He opened the door for them to discover the presence of God in their lives, the working of God in their lives and the love of God in their lives.
He opened the door.And even today, years after his passing, he continues to open the door for people to discover the presence of God in their lives.
Solanus Casey faced an ending that allowed God to begin a work in and through him, a work that continues still.
I quote for you now, his words.
"Let us thank God at all times and under
whatever circumstances.
Thank Him for our creation and existence.
Thank Him for everything. Let us
thank God for all His plans for the future
for trials and humiliations, as well as
great joys and consolations.
God's plans are always for the best,
always wonderful. But most especially for
the patient and the humble
who trust in Him, are His plans
infinitely holy and sublime.
Thank God frequently, not only for
blessings of the past and present,
but thank Him ahead of time
for whatever He foresees is pleasing
to Him that we endure."
AMEN!
Tomorrow's blog will conclude this series.
I would like to end with a quote from one of Detroit's beloved.
Actually, he was not a native Detroiter.
He adopted us and we, proudly, have adopted him.
I am speaking of Solanus Casey, Blessed Solanus Casey.
Solanus Casey knew endings. He experienced a very painful one.
He dreamed of becoming a priest and that dream was fulfilled. However, his superiors determined that he did not have the intellectual capabilities necessary to fully exercise the office of priesthood. As a result he would never be allowed to preach a sermon and he would never be allowed to hear a confession.
The fulness of his dream came to an end.
His task would be that of porter. He would open the door for people and let them in.
And so he began.
Solanus Casey embraced the beginning that God set out for him.
He opened the door for people, many people, increasing numbers of people. He opened the door for them to discover the presence of God in their lives, the working of God in their lives and the love of God in their lives.
He opened the door.And even today, years after his passing, he continues to open the door for people to discover the presence of God in their lives.
Solanus Casey faced an ending that allowed God to begin a work in and through him, a work that continues still.
I quote for you now, his words.
"Let us thank God at all times and under
whatever circumstances.
Thank Him for our creation and existence.
Thank Him for everything. Let us
thank God for all His plans for the future
for trials and humiliations, as well as
great joys and consolations.
God's plans are always for the best,
always wonderful. But most especially for
the patient and the humble
who trust in Him, are His plans
infinitely holy and sublime.
Thank God frequently, not only for
blessings of the past and present,
but thank Him ahead of time
for whatever He foresees is pleasing
to Him that we endure."
AMEN!
Tomorrow's blog will conclude this series.
Friday, February 21, 2020
The Closing Homily: The Mystery of Beginnings
(Remember, the source for this is Matthew 5: 17 - 37; here continues the Homily for the Closing Mass at the Dominican Oxford House. The entire homily runs from Monday's Blog(2/17) until tomorrow's)
We have come to an ending.
What lies ahead?
What does God have in mind?
Who can say?
That God of beginnings is also a God of surprises.
We cannot possibly imagine what God may have in mind for the beginning which will emerge from this ending.
We can see some small signs; we can detect some seeds being planted.
The Dominican presence at Lourdes in Waterford has been intensified.
Once these dedicated women provided the young with skills for life.
Now Dominican women will be available to provide to these children, now grown old, skills needed for their journey into the fulness of life.
They can be a blessed presence for that Final Journey.
And here, in this very place, there is a group of Dominican Associates.
You will no longer have some buildings to retreat to, to claim as comfortable as "home."
You will not have a place.
But you will have a people.
You will have one another - to pray for and with, to strengthen and support, to encourage.
You have been trained well.
Now it is for you to continue, to keep alive the message and the mission of Dominic wherever you are.
And you are to do so in such a way that you encourage and invite still others to join you in this work.
You, the Dominican Associates, hear God saying to you, "I trust you and entrust to you!"
And so Be Peace!
And the Dominican Sisters of Peace - you continue.
In whatever places you find yourselves,
in whatever circumstances you find yourselves,
you continue.
And you seek to bring a message to this fractured, tear-filled world of ours,
Peace is possible!
You show by word and deed the beauty of the way of peace.
Beyond that - well, God's plan is mystery.
But we can hope and trust and know that our future is in the hands of the God Who loves us.
Tomorrow - The Closing Homily: A Final Thought
We have come to an ending.
What lies ahead?
What does God have in mind?
Who can say?
That God of beginnings is also a God of surprises.
We cannot possibly imagine what God may have in mind for the beginning which will emerge from this ending.
We can see some small signs; we can detect some seeds being planted.
The Dominican presence at Lourdes in Waterford has been intensified.
Once these dedicated women provided the young with skills for life.
Now Dominican women will be available to provide to these children, now grown old, skills needed for their journey into the fulness of life.
They can be a blessed presence for that Final Journey.
And here, in this very place, there is a group of Dominican Associates.
You will no longer have some buildings to retreat to, to claim as comfortable as "home."
You will not have a place.
But you will have a people.
You will have one another - to pray for and with, to strengthen and support, to encourage.
You have been trained well.
Now it is for you to continue, to keep alive the message and the mission of Dominic wherever you are.
And you are to do so in such a way that you encourage and invite still others to join you in this work.
You, the Dominican Associates, hear God saying to you, "I trust you and entrust to you!"
And so Be Peace!
And the Dominican Sisters of Peace - you continue.
In whatever places you find yourselves,
in whatever circumstances you find yourselves,
you continue.
And you seek to bring a message to this fractured, tear-filled world of ours,
Peace is possible!
You show by word and deed the beauty of the way of peace.
Beyond that - well, God's plan is mystery.
But we can hope and trust and know that our future is in the hands of the God Who loves us.
Tomorrow - The Closing Homily: A Final Thought
Thursday, February 20, 2020
The Closing Homily: Oxford's Endings and Beginnings
(Remember, the source for this is Matthew 5: 17 - 37; here continues the Homily for the Closing Mass at the Dominican Oxford House)
A century ago a young priest, Father Joseph Zalibera, left behind his family, his friends, his country, all that was familiar to him, all that he could truly call "Home." He left that behind and journeyed to a strange, new land, choosing to live among a people who spoke a strange and unfamiliar language.
In 1922 he became pastor of four-year-old SS. Cyril and Methodius Parish on Detroit's East Side.
He chose to embrace that ending, leaving so much of his very self behind.
And by chosing to accept that ending, through him God was able to bring about the beginning of what would become then a vibrant, flourishing Slovak Catholic community in Southeastern Michigan.
God is, indeed, a God of beginnings when we are willing to face those necessary endings.
Little over a year after assuming the position as pastor, Fr. Zalibera invited a handful of Dominican Sisters, mostly with roots in Slovakia, to join him in Detroit. Together they would welcome newly arriving immigrants as well as those whose roots were in Slovakia but who had first joined the ranks, mostly of coalminers, in Pennsylvania. This group was now gravitating to Detroit as the emerging Motor City capitol of the world and jobs were plentiful.
The sisters could provide staffing and education for their children, providing them with the needed skills and tools to adjust to life in this land and more importantly, providing these children with the foundation of faith.
The sisters heard the call. They put behind all that was familiar to them. The brought an end to what they had and ventured into this beckoning unknown.
And again an ending led to a beginning from which for years children were provided with skills and tools to adapt, adjust, enter into and even flourish through their lives.
The Slovak Dominican community was established and grew and strengthened in Southeast Michigan, ministering in a number of parishes.
From a motherhouse in Warren the community grew into a motherhouse in Waterford and eventually the motherhouse in Oxford.
On this campus for a time there emerged educational programs, even a small college, conference and retreat opportunities. The Waterford site likewise blossomed with a variety of living centers, responding to various aging situations.
But the years passed and times changed and different pastoral needs emerged.
And a reality had to be faced.
The Oxford Dominicans were diminishing in numbers, disappearing.
And so still another ending.
Ten years ago the Dominican Sisters of St. Rose of Lima was fused with a growing, larger movement and ministry.
The Dominican Sisters of St. Rose of Lima ended.
The Dominican Sisters of Peace emerged.
A new ending and still another beginning.
And the call to build a ministry of peace responds to a great need in our time.
In this time of increasing violence, unending wars and the harsh voices of hate, teachers, preachers, builders of peace are so needed.
Endings that call upon God to begin!
And now we come to still another ending.
It is time to close the doors on this Dominican House.
It is time to let go of this place.
It is time to end and invite God: Give to us still another beginning!"
Next - The Closing Homily: The Mystery of Beginnings
In 1922 he became pastor of four-year-old SS. Cyril and Methodius Parish on Detroit's East Side.
He chose to embrace that ending, leaving so much of his very self behind.
And by chosing to accept that ending, through him God was able to bring about the beginning of what would become then a vibrant, flourishing Slovak Catholic community in Southeastern Michigan.
God is, indeed, a God of beginnings when we are willing to face those necessary endings.
Little over a year after assuming the position as pastor, Fr. Zalibera invited a handful of Dominican Sisters, mostly with roots in Slovakia, to join him in Detroit. Together they would welcome newly arriving immigrants as well as those whose roots were in Slovakia but who had first joined the ranks, mostly of coalminers, in Pennsylvania. This group was now gravitating to Detroit as the emerging Motor City capitol of the world and jobs were plentiful.
The sisters could provide staffing and education for their children, providing them with the needed skills and tools to adjust to life in this land and more importantly, providing these children with the foundation of faith.
The sisters heard the call. They put behind all that was familiar to them. The brought an end to what they had and ventured into this beckoning unknown.
And again an ending led to a beginning from which for years children were provided with skills and tools to adapt, adjust, enter into and even flourish through their lives.
The Slovak Dominican community was established and grew and strengthened in Southeast Michigan, ministering in a number of parishes.
From a motherhouse in Warren the community grew into a motherhouse in Waterford and eventually the motherhouse in Oxford.
On this campus for a time there emerged educational programs, even a small college, conference and retreat opportunities. The Waterford site likewise blossomed with a variety of living centers, responding to various aging situations.
But the years passed and times changed and different pastoral needs emerged.
And a reality had to be faced.
The Oxford Dominicans were diminishing in numbers, disappearing.
And so still another ending.
Ten years ago the Dominican Sisters of St. Rose of Lima was fused with a growing, larger movement and ministry.
The Dominican Sisters of St. Rose of Lima ended.
The Dominican Sisters of Peace emerged.
A new ending and still another beginning.
And the call to build a ministry of peace responds to a great need in our time.
In this time of increasing violence, unending wars and the harsh voices of hate, teachers, preachers, builders of peace are so needed.
Endings that call upon God to begin!
And now we come to still another ending.
It is time to close the doors on this Dominican House.
It is time to let go of this place.
It is time to end and invite God: Give to us still another beginning!"
Next - The Closing Homily: The Mystery of Beginnings
Wednesday, February 19, 2020
The Closing Homily: For Example
(Remember, the source for this is Matthew 5: 17 - 37; here continues the Homily for the Closing Mass at the Dominican Oxford House)
The day comes when that child must leave the security and comfort of her mother's womb so as to be born.
An ending paves the way for a new beginning.
That is the way God works.
Those radiant, splashed with vibrant colors leaves of October must fall to the ground and even decay and those barren tree limbs must bear the weight of the snow and the ice and withstand the frigid winds of winter; once that happens, spring can blossom.
Endings lead to beginnings; endings lead to inviting God to work anew.
In just days we will be entering another Season of Lent. This Lent, just like all that have gone before, will eventually bring us to a Friday -That Friday!
On that Friday we will focus on that hillside just outside of the walls of ancient Jerusalem.
And there the most tragic of endings took place.
On a cross!
And that dark evening and all through the following day the disciples of Jesus would be left in their own personal darkness.
They could not know then what God had in mind.
They could not imagine the shape of any coming Beginning.
They hurt.
They cried.
They felt that all was lost, ended, over.
But God's ways are not our ways.
God's ways are mysterious.
God's ways are better, always better for God is far wiser than any of us, even all of us, together.
And God does love us.
But that in-between time, between our endings and God's beginnings, we can feel pain and shed tears.
But that is when we most need to be a people of trust, of hope, of faith.
If that most tragic of endings had not taken place on that Friday, the wonder of that Sunday could not have been!
But from that ending God brought forth a Sunday like no other Sunday, like no other day in all of human history, a day that forever changed history.
Our God is a God of beginnings.
We just need to give God the chance!
Next - The Closing Homily: Oxford's Endings and Beginnings
The day comes when that child must leave the security and comfort of her mother's womb so as to be born.
An ending paves the way for a new beginning.
That is the way God works.
Those radiant, splashed with vibrant colors leaves of October must fall to the ground and even decay and those barren tree limbs must bear the weight of the snow and the ice and withstand the frigid winds of winter; once that happens, spring can blossom.
Endings lead to beginnings; endings lead to inviting God to work anew.
In just days we will be entering another Season of Lent. This Lent, just like all that have gone before, will eventually bring us to a Friday -That Friday!
On that Friday we will focus on that hillside just outside of the walls of ancient Jerusalem.
And there the most tragic of endings took place.
On a cross!
And that dark evening and all through the following day the disciples of Jesus would be left in their own personal darkness.
They could not know then what God had in mind.
They could not imagine the shape of any coming Beginning.
They hurt.
They cried.
They felt that all was lost, ended, over.
But God's ways are not our ways.
God's ways are mysterious.
God's ways are better, always better for God is far wiser than any of us, even all of us, together.
And God does love us.
But that in-between time, between our endings and God's beginnings, we can feel pain and shed tears.
But that is when we most need to be a people of trust, of hope, of faith.
If that most tragic of endings had not taken place on that Friday, the wonder of that Sunday could not have been!
But from that ending God brought forth a Sunday like no other Sunday, like no other day in all of human history, a day that forever changed history.
Our God is a God of beginnings.
We just need to give God the chance!
Next - The Closing Homily: Oxford's Endings and Beginnings
Tuesday, February 18, 2020
The Closing Homily: Digging Deeper
(Remember, the source for this is Matthew 5: 17 - 37; here continues the Homily for the Closing Mass at the Dominican Oxford House)
So, what might God have to say through this particular Gospel especially at a time like the closing of the Dominican Motherhouse in Oxford?
Well, it very quickly becomes evident that, if we are going to get the message of the immediate passage, it would be helpful to see it within its larger context.
Some weeks ago we began Ordinary Time. As we did so, we heard Jesus announcing that He has come to bring about the Kingdom of God.
As February began we started reading from Matthew's Gospel, chapter 5.
That is the chapter where Jesus preaches what has come to be known as the Sermon on the Mount. This is His "inaugural" address. In it He seeks to help us understand what the Kingdom of God looks like and sounds like and feels like.
He also tells us what citizens of that Kingdom should be like and act like.
And He calls us to be citizens of the Kingdom of God.
Looking at the Gospel selection for this weekend, when we hear Jesus taking about surface things that we call sins, we hear Him calling us to go deeper.
The Kingdom of God is definitely NOT a surface thing.
The Kingdom must permeate our whole being.
Have one foot in the Kingdom and another in some second kingdom - impossible.
You are either all in or not at all in!
That's the stuff about what's going on in our hearts as well as our minds. Kingdom has got to guide every part of us.
And as citizens of the Kingdom of God there will be times when we have to admit that we are holding onto something, we have something, we embrace something that really is not of the Kingdom.
The Kingdom must come first and if something else gets in the way, even if once that something was good or even needed, we must let go.
When that happens, we need to say, "Goodbye," "Farewell," "Sayonara!"
There are those times when we have to let go of, get rid of, part with for the sake of the Kingdom.
And those times can be painful, definitely not easy.
Sometimes it may even fell like we are cutting off a part of ur very being.
But, citizens of the Kingdom - the Kingdom comes first and must come first.
But understand the beauty of this whole process.
It sounds like we are ending something, and, indeed we are.
But God is not a God of endings.
God is a God of beginnings. WE need to remember that this is what we believe. This is the source of our hope.
When we end something for the sake of the Kingdom, that invites God to begin something for the sake of the Kingdom.
And we do have to end things from time to time!
If we don't, new things will not begin.
And what also is difficult here is that we do not always understand the mind of God.
When we have to let go, we sort of want right then and there to know - what's next?
And that is not always possible.
God's ways are definitely not our ways.
So we have to trust God and trust that God loves us and wants the best for us.
Next - The Closing Homily: For Example
Well, it very quickly becomes evident that, if we are going to get the message of the immediate passage, it would be helpful to see it within its larger context.
Some weeks ago we began Ordinary Time. As we did so, we heard Jesus announcing that He has come to bring about the Kingdom of God.
As February began we started reading from Matthew's Gospel, chapter 5.
That is the chapter where Jesus preaches what has come to be known as the Sermon on the Mount. This is His "inaugural" address. In it He seeks to help us understand what the Kingdom of God looks like and sounds like and feels like.
He also tells us what citizens of that Kingdom should be like and act like.
And He calls us to be citizens of the Kingdom of God.
Looking at the Gospel selection for this weekend, when we hear Jesus taking about surface things that we call sins, we hear Him calling us to go deeper.
The Kingdom of God is definitely NOT a surface thing.
The Kingdom must permeate our whole being.
Have one foot in the Kingdom and another in some second kingdom - impossible.
You are either all in or not at all in!
That's the stuff about what's going on in our hearts as well as our minds. Kingdom has got to guide every part of us.
And as citizens of the Kingdom of God there will be times when we have to admit that we are holding onto something, we have something, we embrace something that really is not of the Kingdom.
The Kingdom must come first and if something else gets in the way, even if once that something was good or even needed, we must let go.
When that happens, we need to say, "Goodbye," "Farewell," "Sayonara!"
There are those times when we have to let go of, get rid of, part with for the sake of the Kingdom.
And those times can be painful, definitely not easy.
Sometimes it may even fell like we are cutting off a part of ur very being.
But, citizens of the Kingdom - the Kingdom comes first and must come first.
But understand the beauty of this whole process.
It sounds like we are ending something, and, indeed we are.
But God is not a God of endings.
God is a God of beginnings. WE need to remember that this is what we believe. This is the source of our hope.
When we end something for the sake of the Kingdom, that invites God to begin something for the sake of the Kingdom.
And we do have to end things from time to time!
If we don't, new things will not begin.
And what also is difficult here is that we do not always understand the mind of God.
When we have to let go, we sort of want right then and there to know - what's next?
And that is not always possible.
God's ways are definitely not our ways.
So we have to trust God and trust that God loves us and wants the best for us.
Next - The Closing Homily: For Example
Monday, February 17, 2020
The Closing Homily: Backstory
Yes!
There is a bit of a "backstory" to the homily on the occasion of the closing of the Oxford Dominican Motherhouse.
That backstory seems to begin when I got the official date for the closing Mass.
Almost immediately I checked the Lectionary to see what the readings assigned for that date would be.
I saw and I gasped.
Matthew 5: 17 - 37.
When I told Sr. Shela (Superior) she suggested that, maybe, I could change the readings.
And to that suggestion I said, "No."
Then came the meeting a couple of weeks before the Closing Mass. The liturgy planning team gathered and in their working read the Scriptures assigned for the day. Shortly after the meeting, I got a phone call from Sr. Shela.
They had a chance to read the Scriptures.
We need to change them!
You were right. They are terrible.
Change them
Again my response was a "No."
Often enough in the days leading up to this moment the suggestion was being made from different sources, change the readings!
We will keep these readings. We will use these readings. So I insisted.
And why was I being so adamant? Stubborn?
Well, I am a liturgist. I have a Masters in Liturgical Theology.
During our studies, one of the principles set out for us was something like this:
Never try to tell God what to say.
That is telling God what you want to hear.
Instead of that, let God tell you what you need to hear.
In other words, don't pick and choose the Scriptures based on what you want.
It is easy to pick what you want, what seems most appropriate, what seems to fit.
That is making the Word of God say what you want to hear.
Instead of that, just use what is given, what is assigned.
Let God speak to you.
And believe that God is saying what you need to hear.
So, with that principle having been solidly imbedded in me, I insisted that the Scriptures of the day be our readings for the Closing of the Oxford Motherhouse.
And one other item comes to mind that also verifies my insistence in retaining the Scriptures of the day.
This is an actual event from my own history.
Some years ago the Apostolic Delegate to the United States, the Pope's personal representative, was in Detroit for some doing.
As it turned out I was walking down a corridor at Sacred Heart Seminary and the Delegate was walking together with Cardinal Szoka right behind me.
Cardinal Szoka realized who was there in front of them.
He raised his voice just loud enough for me to hear. He wanted me to hear.
And he said to the Apostolic Delegate, "He's a liturgist!"
The Cardinal went on, "Do you know the difference between a liturgist and a terrorist?"
A moment of silence.
Then it came.
The Cardinal explained, "At least with a terrorist you have a chance to negotiate!"
And trust me, Cardinal Szoka was speaking from experience!
And so as our source of inspiration, as our experience of the Gospel Good News, on the day of the Closing of the Dominican Motherhouse in Oxford, we heard the words of Jesus telling us that anger, even harbored deep within our hearts was as evil as murder, lustful looking was as evil as adultery, and an offensive eye should be "torn out," and an offensive limb should be "cut off."
With words such as those we were trying to hear what God had to say to us!
More tomorrow . . .
There is a bit of a "backstory" to the homily on the occasion of the closing of the Oxford Dominican Motherhouse.
That backstory seems to begin when I got the official date for the closing Mass.
Almost immediately I checked the Lectionary to see what the readings assigned for that date would be.
I saw and I gasped.
Matthew 5: 17 - 37.
When I told Sr. Shela (Superior) she suggested that, maybe, I could change the readings.
And to that suggestion I said, "No."
Then came the meeting a couple of weeks before the Closing Mass. The liturgy planning team gathered and in their working read the Scriptures assigned for the day. Shortly after the meeting, I got a phone call from Sr. Shela.
They had a chance to read the Scriptures.
We need to change them!
You were right. They are terrible.
Change them
Again my response was a "No."
Often enough in the days leading up to this moment the suggestion was being made from different sources, change the readings!
We will keep these readings. We will use these readings. So I insisted.
And why was I being so adamant? Stubborn?
Well, I am a liturgist. I have a Masters in Liturgical Theology.
During our studies, one of the principles set out for us was something like this:
Never try to tell God what to say.
That is telling God what you want to hear.
Instead of that, let God tell you what you need to hear.
In other words, don't pick and choose the Scriptures based on what you want.
It is easy to pick what you want, what seems most appropriate, what seems to fit.
That is making the Word of God say what you want to hear.
Instead of that, just use what is given, what is assigned.
Let God speak to you.
And believe that God is saying what you need to hear.
So, with that principle having been solidly imbedded in me, I insisted that the Scriptures of the day be our readings for the Closing of the Oxford Motherhouse.
And one other item comes to mind that also verifies my insistence in retaining the Scriptures of the day.
This is an actual event from my own history.
Some years ago the Apostolic Delegate to the United States, the Pope's personal representative, was in Detroit for some doing.
As it turned out I was walking down a corridor at Sacred Heart Seminary and the Delegate was walking together with Cardinal Szoka right behind me.
Cardinal Szoka realized who was there in front of them.
He raised his voice just loud enough for me to hear. He wanted me to hear.
And he said to the Apostolic Delegate, "He's a liturgist!"
The Cardinal went on, "Do you know the difference between a liturgist and a terrorist?"
A moment of silence.
Then it came.
The Cardinal explained, "At least with a terrorist you have a chance to negotiate!"
And trust me, Cardinal Szoka was speaking from experience!
And so as our source of inspiration, as our experience of the Gospel Good News, on the day of the Closing of the Dominican Motherhouse in Oxford, we heard the words of Jesus telling us that anger, even harbored deep within our hearts was as evil as murder, lustful looking was as evil as adultery, and an offensive eye should be "torn out," and an offensive limb should be "cut off."
With words such as those we were trying to hear what God had to say to us!
More tomorrow . . .
Saturday, February 15, 2020
Words on the Way to Sunday . . .
One day more!
And I have had some of my priest friends, neighbors here at Senior Clergy Village telling me things like, "I don't envy what you have to do." "I wouldn't want to have to face that."
And more importantly, "I'm praying for you."
And yes, I have asked for those prayers. For weeks now I have been asking for those prayers.
Even now I ask you, whoever you are, reading this right now, I ask you for your prayers.
Tomorrow I will once again lead the People of God in that great Act of Eucharist.
I have done this so many, many times over these years.
I have done so in good times and in bad, and as those familiar vows spoken at weddings go, in sickness and in health.
Through all sorts of times - moments of joy and jubilation - all those weddings and all those First Communions and so many graduations and welcoming of new life and Easter Vigils and Midnight Masses - I have stood at the altar table and led the People of God and declared, "Let us give thanks to the Lord, our God."
And in those bad times too, those times of loss and suffering and sorrow -all those moments of dealing with death and loss and grief and parting and even, thinking of those tragic moments, that evening of September 11, 2001. In all those tear filled moments I have stood at the altar table and led the People of God and declared, "Let us give thanks to the Lord, our God!"
And tomorrow once again the People of God will gather.
And they will bring their memories and sometimes those memories will cause a burst of a smile and sometimes those memories will bring a tear to be shed.
They will come.
And again they will hear that invitation, that summons which calls us to be a People of Faith, "Let us give thanks to the Lord, our God!"
What I have to do, we have to do.
What I have to face, we have to face.
Together we are a people who know the importance of giving thanks to the Lord, our God.
In those good times and bad, in those moments of weakness as well as strength, we give thanks to the Lord, our God.
We give thanks because we know . . .
We know that we have been blessed.
We have, indeed, been blessed by those self-giving women who taught us and nurtured us and sustained us and equipped us for life, who prayed with us as they prayed for us and who helped us to discover the most important part of our everyday lives.
God is with us.
God does love us.
We have been blessed.
And we will continue to be blessed.
Because a core of them will remain to minister and care for and bring an awareness of the Presence of God to places like Lourdes in Waterford.
And we will continue to be blessed because we have learned well the lessons which they taught.
And we will continue to be blessed as long as we continue to live by what we have learned from them.
And we will be continue to be blessed as they lead us still from wherever they may be in working to build a more peace-filled world.
We have been blessed.
And we are blessed.
And we will continue to be blessed.
Buildings may be repurposed.
But the Dominican Sisters of Peace continue.
And so we truly are blessed.
So "Let us give thanks to the Lord, our God!"
And don't pity what I do tomorrow.
Join me in that great act of thanksgiving.
Let us do Eucharist.
Eucharist is what we should do.
Eucharist is what we should be.
It is right and just!
Let us give thanks to the Lord, our God!
MORE IS STILL COMING . . . NEXT WEEK I WILL LET YOU IN ON THE HOMILY EMERGING FROM MATTHEW 5: 17 - 37. That starts on Monday.
MEANTIME - For anyone planning on taking part in the Closing Mass,
remember, it begins at 2:00 PM rather than the usual time for a Sunday!
And I have had some of my priest friends, neighbors here at Senior Clergy Village telling me things like, "I don't envy what you have to do." "I wouldn't want to have to face that."
And more importantly, "I'm praying for you."
And yes, I have asked for those prayers. For weeks now I have been asking for those prayers.
Even now I ask you, whoever you are, reading this right now, I ask you for your prayers.
Tomorrow I will once again lead the People of God in that great Act of Eucharist.
I have done this so many, many times over these years.
I have done so in good times and in bad, and as those familiar vows spoken at weddings go, in sickness and in health.
Through all sorts of times - moments of joy and jubilation - all those weddings and all those First Communions and so many graduations and welcoming of new life and Easter Vigils and Midnight Masses - I have stood at the altar table and led the People of God and declared, "Let us give thanks to the Lord, our God."
And in those bad times too, those times of loss and suffering and sorrow -all those moments of dealing with death and loss and grief and parting and even, thinking of those tragic moments, that evening of September 11, 2001. In all those tear filled moments I have stood at the altar table and led the People of God and declared, "Let us give thanks to the Lord, our God!"
And tomorrow once again the People of God will gather.
And they will bring their memories and sometimes those memories will cause a burst of a smile and sometimes those memories will bring a tear to be shed.
They will come.
And again they will hear that invitation, that summons which calls us to be a People of Faith, "Let us give thanks to the Lord, our God!"
What I have to do, we have to do.
What I have to face, we have to face.
Together we are a people who know the importance of giving thanks to the Lord, our God.
In those good times and bad, in those moments of weakness as well as strength, we give thanks to the Lord, our God.
We give thanks because we know . . .
We know that we have been blessed.
We have, indeed, been blessed by those self-giving women who taught us and nurtured us and sustained us and equipped us for life, who prayed with us as they prayed for us and who helped us to discover the most important part of our everyday lives.
God is with us.
God does love us.
We have been blessed.
And we will continue to be blessed.
Because a core of them will remain to minister and care for and bring an awareness of the Presence of God to places like Lourdes in Waterford.
And we will continue to be blessed because we have learned well the lessons which they taught.
And we will continue to be blessed as long as we continue to live by what we have learned from them.
And we will be continue to be blessed as they lead us still from wherever they may be in working to build a more peace-filled world.
We have been blessed.
And we are blessed.
And we will continue to be blessed.
Buildings may be repurposed.
But the Dominican Sisters of Peace continue.
And so we truly are blessed.
So "Let us give thanks to the Lord, our God!"
And don't pity what I do tomorrow.
Join me in that great act of thanksgiving.
Let us do Eucharist.
Eucharist is what we should do.
Eucharist is what we should be.
It is right and just!
Let us give thanks to the Lord, our God!
MORE IS STILL COMING . . . NEXT WEEK I WILL LET YOU IN ON THE HOMILY EMERGING FROM MATTHEW 5: 17 - 37. That starts on Monday.
MEANTIME - For anyone planning on taking part in the Closing Mass,
remember, it begins at 2:00 PM rather than the usual time for a Sunday!
Friday, February 14, 2020
A Cup for the Journey on the Way to Sunday . . .
And then there is the Cup . . . his Cup!
The photo above shows four Cups - one on each side of the arrangement, crystal goblets. which were used by my parents for their toast on their Fiftieth Anniversary back in 2003.
Next moving toward the left center is my Chalice, the one I have used so often, so many times over these almost fifty-six years now.
And the remaining Cup, almost in the very center, directly under the crucifix, that is his Cup.
I don't know if he brought it with him when he came to the States from Slovakia or whether he got it here in the States. I do know that it was his, the chalice of Fr. Joseph Zalibera.
He is the one who came to this land to minister here, in the Detroit area, especially to the Slovak migrants. Nearly a hundred years ago sizable numbers of Slovaks were migrating here, hoping for a better life not so much for themselves as for their children.
They worked hard, many settling at least for a time in places like Pennsylvania, working in the coal mines. When opportunities broadened, many gravitated to Detroit for jobs in the auto industry.
And Fr. Zalibera was here to welcome them and to minister to them. In 1922 he had been named the second pastor of the, then, four year old parish, SS. Cyril and Methodius.
And with that parish community at Mass after Mass he lifted his Cup high for all to see after he had spoken those ancient yet ever new words, "This is My Blood . . . Do this in memory of Me!" (In Latin then, of course!)
So many times I and other youngsters like me saw this Cup lifted for our prayerful viewing.
In a way this Cup inspired my life journey.
For thirty-nine years, until his health caused him to retire with that Cup Fr. Zalibera proclaimed the Presence of the Risen Lord in the lives of those hard working Detroit East Siders. That Cup went with him in retirement to Oxford.
After his passing many of Fr. Zalibera's memorable belongs passed on to the Oxford Dominicans. He was, after all, the one responsible in so many ways for their being here. So many of them ministered together with him.
His Cup found a place with them.
Then, as the fiftieth anniversary of my ordination approached, I was asked if I wanted to use his Cup for the occasion!
I embraced the opportunity with deep gratitude.
The photo above shows what I did for my Fiftieth.
I spoke of how faith is passed on - from pastors, folks like Fr. Zalibera, and parents, like those of my own, until it rests in our hands to be passed on to still others.
Those cups captured that message so visually.
After that celebration we continued to use his Cup for Mass in Oxford for those special times like Christmas and Easter and Dominican Feasts.
Today, February 14 I cannot help but recall that Cup and its part in my life and the lives of so very many. Today is the Feast of SS. Cyril and Methodius!
That was the parish in which we grew up.
That was the school so lovingly guided by those Oxford Dominicans.
And these were the men, Cyril and Methodius, who first brought the faith that we now hold to our ancestors in Slovakia..
And on Sunday at the altar therein Oxford I will lift the Cup, his Cup.
One final time that Cup will renew the People of God gathered in that religious house that has been the source of faith to so many of us.
One last time I will lift his Cup.
And when that Mass is over, I will take that Cup, his Cup, and it will go with me as the journey continues.
But meanwhile some hours remain before those moments, hours we need to prepare to deal with those words of Jesus in Matthew 5: 17 - 37. Have you checked them out yet?
FOR A MORE DETAILED HISTORY, CLICK ON:
AND FOR AN OUTLINE HISTORY WITH PHOTOS:
Thursday, February 13, 2020
On the Path on the Way to Sunday . . .
The cemetery at Oxford, Our Lady of Sorrows Cemetery, is to be saved and preserved even after the Dominican presence is ended.
In that cemetery rest the earthly remains of many of the originals, those whose names can evoke so many memories.
Mother Mary Joseph and Mother Lucille.
And Sister Michalene and Sr. Andrea and Sr. Annunciata and Sr. Bernadette and Sr. Imelda and Sr. Lawrence . . .
And Sister Mary . . and on and on and on . . .
And Sr. Rosaria - kindergarten teacher; taught us the importance of taking a nap!
And of the beauty and joy of music!
And Sr. Barbara - yes, Sister, you really did take that ruler to my knuckles. In those later years you would deny it. You would declare that I was the "best behaved of all your students." But, come on, you and I both know that was just not true.
No matter because you could take pride in those whose lives you helped to shape. And I am glad that you could take pride in me!
And Sr. Mary Forever Nameless - you know who you are if you remember. You were the one who asked us where we planned to go for high school and when I told you that I intended to enter the seminary, you declared that to be the most ridiculous of ideas! "Get it out of your head!" you proclaimed.
Know what?
Your challenge just may have been what I needed to get me where I have gone and so, Thank You!
And then there is that one particular spot, that one most remarkable grave.
From the road to the cemetery there is a walking path, but it is not just a simple walk or stroll.
It actually is a way marked by the Stations.
The Way of the Cross.
The traditional stations of the cross mark that path, that way.
And the Twelfth Station bears that very special marker.
It is the resting place of the earthly remains of Fr. Joseph Zalibera, the man who inspired so much of this history.
But back up just a bit in this walk down that Memory Lane Path!
Back up to the very beginning of that path.
An altar of a sort is there, right at the very start of that path.
Backing that altar is an image of the Pieta.
And with that altar comes more memories.
Octobers and those Sundays each year in October when we would journey by bus loads out to Oxford. The faithful came not just from SS. Cyril and Methodius Parish but from a number of other churches around southeastern Michigan.
Busses came bearing pilgrims.
We came to walk in the October chill along the roads of the Oxford campus, praying out loud. We prayed the Rosary. We sang hymns in honor of the Lady, our Mother, imaged in that Pieta holding her beloved Son just as we believed she held us and holds us still.
We prayed and sang and processed until we came to this place, this altar.
And there we were blessed.
Fr. Joseph Zalibera held high the Eucharistic Monstrance and blessed the People of God.
Paused as we are at that spot, let me share a more recent memory of that place.
With all those past memories in mind, on the very first Memorial Day that I was retired, I made a suggestion.
Let's have Memorial Day Mass there, outside, at that altar which stands at the beginning of the path to the Oxford cemetery. There is so much history there, so many memories!
And so we did, indeed, have Mass there that day.
And the sisters and the others who came sat on park benches gathered around that altar.
In the sunlight.
The hot sunlight!
Seems that on that particular Memorial Day Mother Nature decided to "bless" us with not just good weather but with good, warm, very warm weather.
A 90 degree sun shone down on us as we gathered that Memorial Day at that altar.
And the very next year, as Memorial Day approached, I was informed by the good sisters of Oxford, "Please, Father, we are not going outside for Mass again! Please!"
Memories!
Of a path,
and a place,
and a cemetery,
and of those whose remains rest there.
Memories.
But Sunday approaches.
And that Gospel - Matthew 5: 17 - 37
Have you looked at it yet?
In that cemetery rest the earthly remains of many of the originals, those whose names can evoke so many memories.
Mother Mary Joseph and Mother Lucille.
And Sister Michalene and Sr. Andrea and Sr. Annunciata and Sr. Bernadette and Sr. Imelda and Sr. Lawrence . . .
And Sister Mary . . and on and on and on . . .
And Sr. Rosaria - kindergarten teacher; taught us the importance of taking a nap!
And of the beauty and joy of music!
And Sr. Barbara - yes, Sister, you really did take that ruler to my knuckles. In those later years you would deny it. You would declare that I was the "best behaved of all your students." But, come on, you and I both know that was just not true.
No matter because you could take pride in those whose lives you helped to shape. And I am glad that you could take pride in me!
And Sr. Mary Forever Nameless - you know who you are if you remember. You were the one who asked us where we planned to go for high school and when I told you that I intended to enter the seminary, you declared that to be the most ridiculous of ideas! "Get it out of your head!" you proclaimed.
Know what?
Your challenge just may have been what I needed to get me where I have gone and so, Thank You!
And then there is that one particular spot, that one most remarkable grave.
From the road to the cemetery there is a walking path, but it is not just a simple walk or stroll.
It actually is a way marked by the Stations.
The Way of the Cross.
The traditional stations of the cross mark that path, that way.
And the Twelfth Station bears that very special marker.
It is the resting place of the earthly remains of Fr. Joseph Zalibera, the man who inspired so much of this history.
But back up just a bit in this walk down that Memory Lane Path!
Back up to the very beginning of that path.
An altar of a sort is there, right at the very start of that path.
Backing that altar is an image of the Pieta.
And with that altar comes more memories.
Octobers and those Sundays each year in October when we would journey by bus loads out to Oxford. The faithful came not just from SS. Cyril and Methodius Parish but from a number of other churches around southeastern Michigan.
Busses came bearing pilgrims.
We came to walk in the October chill along the roads of the Oxford campus, praying out loud. We prayed the Rosary. We sang hymns in honor of the Lady, our Mother, imaged in that Pieta holding her beloved Son just as we believed she held us and holds us still.
We prayed and sang and processed until we came to this place, this altar.
And there we were blessed.
Fr. Joseph Zalibera held high the Eucharistic Monstrance and blessed the People of God.
Paused as we are at that spot, let me share a more recent memory of that place.
With all those past memories in mind, on the very first Memorial Day that I was retired, I made a suggestion.
Let's have Memorial Day Mass there, outside, at that altar which stands at the beginning of the path to the Oxford cemetery. There is so much history there, so many memories!
And so we did, indeed, have Mass there that day.
And the sisters and the others who came sat on park benches gathered around that altar.
In the sunlight.
The hot sunlight!
Seems that on that particular Memorial Day Mother Nature decided to "bless" us with not just good weather but with good, warm, very warm weather.
A 90 degree sun shone down on us as we gathered that Memorial Day at that altar.
And the very next year, as Memorial Day approached, I was informed by the good sisters of Oxford, "Please, Father, we are not going outside for Mass again! Please!"
Memories!
Of a path,
and a place,
and a cemetery,
and of those whose remains rest there.
Memories.
But Sunday approaches.
And that Gospel - Matthew 5: 17 - 37
Have you looked at it yet?
Wednesday, February 12, 2020
On the Way to Sunday . . .
It is just days away now, so close that, perhaps, we could count hours - just hours away.
And I have decided to "take you with me" as I move through the hours until Sunday afternoon, February 16, 2020.
At that time this very unique journey will reach its climax.
This journey, this immediate journey, began a few months ago.
I believe that it was in September that the announcement was made.
The Dominican presence in their Oxford motherhouse was coming to an end.
The house was so large and the present congregation there was too small and shrinking.
In addition, due to health and aging, many of the residents needed on site healthcare.
Pure economics was taking its toll.
The facility and its grounds, except for the cemetery, would be sold and those still in residence there would be relocated.
The process began. Movement toward the ending was underway.
And way back then I was informed that I might likely be the homilist for the closing Mass.
Some time after that the date for that Mass was chosen and I was informed that I would, indeed, be the homilist.
Receiving that news, I quickly consulted my Lectionary to see what the Scriptures for that date would be.
I checked.
And I think I choked at least just a bit.
The first reading, from the Hebrew Scriptures is certainly rather acceptable - Sirach 15: 15 - 20.
And the second reading, from Paul's First Letter to the Corinthians (1 Cor 2: 6 - 10) might prove workable.
But then there is the Gospel, the very heart of the matter.
The Gospel!
Matthew 5: 17 - 37
OK, I am going to stir your curiosity!
Look it up for yourself.
Pull out your Bible.
You have the reference - chapter and verses.
Check it out.
Now I invite you, even challenge you.
If you were called on to deliver the homily on an occasion like this and you were given the Gospel that I just cited for you (did you look it up yet?) what would you say?
But as you look at those words from that Gospel reading, please realize something more.
For me this journey did not really start a couple of months ago. The immediate journey did, for sure. However, the actual journey, the first steps really began a long, long time ago.
I am going to say this all began somewhere around the time I began kindergarten!
My very first brushes with the Oxford Dominicans began when my formal education began.
These Dominicans taught in our parish school. They were a real, visible presence in our community. We could expect them at Sunday Mass.
Their black and white habits were the vestments we knew spoke of those who presided at our growing from children to adults.
Oxford was a destination for many a pilgrimage and many a festival in those growing up years.
The old barn that now is a retreat house once served as a "restaurant" for chicken dinners. The building now known as the maintenance building once bustled with festival games.
And one strong memory for me - June 8, 1964.
Just two days after my ordination to the priesthood, I and my family made a special journey out to Oxford. There, together with Fr. Joseph Zalibera, I would stand at the altar and preside at Mass. That marked the beginning of my years of ministry.
And now, the Sunday fast approaching, I will stand at an altar in Oxford yet again.
And for one final time I will preside at the Mass there.
And preach a homily.
On Matthew 5: 17 - 37!
What might you say if you were me?
And I have decided to "take you with me" as I move through the hours until Sunday afternoon, February 16, 2020.
At that time this very unique journey will reach its climax.
This journey, this immediate journey, began a few months ago.
I believe that it was in September that the announcement was made.
The Dominican presence in their Oxford motherhouse was coming to an end.
The house was so large and the present congregation there was too small and shrinking.
In addition, due to health and aging, many of the residents needed on site healthcare.
Pure economics was taking its toll.
The facility and its grounds, except for the cemetery, would be sold and those still in residence there would be relocated.
The process began. Movement toward the ending was underway.
And way back then I was informed that I might likely be the homilist for the closing Mass.
Some time after that the date for that Mass was chosen and I was informed that I would, indeed, be the homilist.
Receiving that news, I quickly consulted my Lectionary to see what the Scriptures for that date would be.
I checked.
And I think I choked at least just a bit.
The first reading, from the Hebrew Scriptures is certainly rather acceptable - Sirach 15: 15 - 20.
And the second reading, from Paul's First Letter to the Corinthians (1 Cor 2: 6 - 10) might prove workable.
But then there is the Gospel, the very heart of the matter.
The Gospel!
Matthew 5: 17 - 37
OK, I am going to stir your curiosity!
Look it up for yourself.
Pull out your Bible.
You have the reference - chapter and verses.
Check it out.
Now I invite you, even challenge you.
If you were called on to deliver the homily on an occasion like this and you were given the Gospel that I just cited for you (did you look it up yet?) what would you say?
But as you look at those words from that Gospel reading, please realize something more.
For me this journey did not really start a couple of months ago. The immediate journey did, for sure. However, the actual journey, the first steps really began a long, long time ago.
I am going to say this all began somewhere around the time I began kindergarten!
My very first brushes with the Oxford Dominicans began when my formal education began.
These Dominicans taught in our parish school. They were a real, visible presence in our community. We could expect them at Sunday Mass.
Their black and white habits were the vestments we knew spoke of those who presided at our growing from children to adults.
Oxford was a destination for many a pilgrimage and many a festival in those growing up years.
The old barn that now is a retreat house once served as a "restaurant" for chicken dinners. The building now known as the maintenance building once bustled with festival games.
And one strong memory for me - June 8, 1964.
Just two days after my ordination to the priesthood, I and my family made a special journey out to Oxford. There, together with Fr. Joseph Zalibera, I would stand at the altar and preside at Mass. That marked the beginning of my years of ministry.
And now, the Sunday fast approaching, I will stand at an altar in Oxford yet again.
And for one final time I will preside at the Mass there.
And preach a homily.
On Matthew 5: 17 - 37!
What might you say if you were me?
Thursday, February 6, 2020
Right around the Corner!
Last Sunday good, old Punxsutawney Phil assured us that spring was right around the corner.
Last night, it snowed.
It is snowing again now.
But no matter if spring is right around the corner or winter is determined to settle in for a spell, "It" is, indeed, right around the corner.
The real harbinger of spring is fast approaching.
Lent!
That is the sign of springtime of which I speak - Lent!
This is the season that calls on people of faith to do some housecleaning - serious housecleaning.
Sure, the time approaches for actually cleaning the house, that dwelling place where we hang our hats.
Springtime brings spring cleaning.
Lent calls for a spring cleaning too, a very different kind of housecleaning.
It is a time to shake off the cobwebs of sluggishness and routine and indifference and spiritual sleepiness.
Lent is that time for dealing with those things within that taint our relationship with God and our relationships with one another.
Lent is the time for awakening or reawakening that Spirit Fire within us.
Lent is the time for Spiritual Spring Cleaning.
And to get ourselves ready, I would suggest that the critical question should NOT be: What am I going to give up for Lent this year?
Nope!
The critical question, I firmly believe, should be: What am I going to become because of Lent this year?
What am I going to become in the sight of God?
What am I going to become in the sight of my loved ones?
What am I going to become in the sight of my co-workers?
What am I going to become in the sight of my community?
What am I going to become in the sight of those who right now do not like me?
Thought questions!
Sure!
But Spring Cleaning is never an easy task and Spiritual Spring Cleaning is a challenge and it should be a challenge.
Religion should never be easy or comfortable - cheap grace, as one theologian cautioned.
As I pen this, Lent is but two and a half weeks away.
If it is to be what it should be, we cannot just stumble into it.
We need to get ourselves ready - now.
We need to get our plan of action - now.
When we look at our world today, we should clearly see how critical a good Lent is for us and for the world.
When we look at our society today, we should clearly see Lent's importance.
Even when we look at our Churches today, and especially at all of those empty places and grey hairs, we should be powerfully reminded that we need to do better, to be better.
What we are right now has got to change -- for the better.
We need Lent!
And we need to take Lent seriously.
Phil has spoken!
Phil has said to expect an early spring.
Phil has said that spring is coming.
So, come on, Church!
Get busy!
It is time for Spring.
This weary, war-torn, hate-filled, tear-stained world needs Springtime!
Church - make it happen!
Make the Springtime that is so desperately needed happen.
He calls us to it!
(And by "He" I don't mean Phil!)
Last night, it snowed.
It is snowing again now.
But no matter if spring is right around the corner or winter is determined to settle in for a spell, "It" is, indeed, right around the corner.
The real harbinger of spring is fast approaching.
Lent!
That is the sign of springtime of which I speak - Lent!
This is the season that calls on people of faith to do some housecleaning - serious housecleaning.
Sure, the time approaches for actually cleaning the house, that dwelling place where we hang our hats.
Springtime brings spring cleaning.
Lent calls for a spring cleaning too, a very different kind of housecleaning.
It is a time to shake off the cobwebs of sluggishness and routine and indifference and spiritual sleepiness.
Lent is that time for dealing with those things within that taint our relationship with God and our relationships with one another.
Lent is the time for awakening or reawakening that Spirit Fire within us.
Lent is the time for Spiritual Spring Cleaning.
And to get ourselves ready, I would suggest that the critical question should NOT be: What am I going to give up for Lent this year?
Nope!
The critical question, I firmly believe, should be: What am I going to become because of Lent this year?
What am I going to become in the sight of God?
What am I going to become in the sight of my loved ones?
What am I going to become in the sight of my co-workers?
What am I going to become in the sight of my community?
What am I going to become in the sight of those who right now do not like me?
Thought questions!
Sure!
But Spring Cleaning is never an easy task and Spiritual Spring Cleaning is a challenge and it should be a challenge.
Religion should never be easy or comfortable - cheap grace, as one theologian cautioned.
As I pen this, Lent is but two and a half weeks away.
If it is to be what it should be, we cannot just stumble into it.
We need to get ourselves ready - now.
We need to get our plan of action - now.
When we look at our world today, we should clearly see how critical a good Lent is for us and for the world.
When we look at our society today, we should clearly see Lent's importance.
Even when we look at our Churches today, and especially at all of those empty places and grey hairs, we should be powerfully reminded that we need to do better, to be better.
What we are right now has got to change -- for the better.
We need Lent!
And we need to take Lent seriously.
Phil has spoken!
Phil has said to expect an early spring.
Phil has said that spring is coming.
So, come on, Church!
Get busy!
It is time for Spring.
This weary, war-torn, hate-filled, tear-stained world needs Springtime!
Church - make it happen!
Make the Springtime that is so desperately needed happen.
He calls us to it!
(And by "He" I don't mean Phil!)
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