Return to "Normal" - Should We?

That is the increasing cry these days as we move daily further and longer into this pandemic.
"Let's return to normal."
"How much longer?"
"Why can't we just get back to . . . "
Return to normal!
Is that what we really want?
Is that what we really should want?
After all of what has unfolded in the past weeks and months, do we just want to go back to the way we were before it all?
Should we want to just go back?
How about going forward?
How about realizing some long held dreams?
How about being bold enough to make long called for, long awaited changes?
How about refusing to simply embrace the old status quo?
Can we actually dare to make changes to the way things were and start to build the way things should be?
As a society, as the Church can we dare to be different? Better?
This pandemic has brought the world to a halt in so very many ways, ways unimagined just weeks or even days before.
What if . . .
What if we prayerfully began to see this as a time of Grace?
When we journey through the Scriptures, we find a people willing to search for the Hand of God or the Message of God in life's occurrences. They also believed that in times of adversity, God had something strong and important to reveal to them.
They were not always good about listening or immediately accepting the message but when they finally did, they found themselves enriched.
What if we gave that a try?
What if we used some of this down time to search for God's Wisdom as it may be being revealed and discovered in our present circumstances.
The world has virtually come to a standstill.
Life as we knew it is at a standstill.
Virtually everything - yes, everything - that we held as value has suddenly been called into question.
We have an historic opportunity to rethink, reevaluate, reexamine everything.
We do not need to get back to the way things were.
We can move forward rather than backward.
But we need to pay attention, to listen, to see this as a time of Grace, of God.
What, truly, is important?
What, really, matters?
What should we let go of and what should we cling most vigorously to?
And here is the true bottom line.
What would God like to see from us as we reopen?
What is God's desire?
Get that. Not our desire but rather God's.
And if we are to enter into that question, we must recognize our need to pray - really pray and not just utter some words.
Looking back at our yesterdays, it seems to me that we can find a whole lot of what we wanted.
And that meant a whole little of what God just might have wanted.
In our process of reopening of our, or wait - should that not be God's - world, what should stay and what should go. What belongs and what really does not fit.
What must we do to make things better and what must we rid ourselves of?
And as we dare these thoughts, we need to make ourselves bold and daring.
God is no coward.
And God never settles for the status quo.
God's Spirit is fire and whirlwind.
Young dreaming dreams and old having visions.
And that Peter who said, "I do not even know Him," standing on that portico before the multitude declaring, "You do not know Him -- but you need to!"
Visions and dreams.
Of a nation truly committed to the ideals of our founders.
Of a world truly committed to becoming one world.
Of a Church truly committed to embodying His Way.
Of families truly embracing one another.
Of each of us truly accepting the freedom to be responsible for. . .
Catherine of Siena, that great Doctor of our Church, so many centuries ago so boldly challenged her time with words that can challenge us still.
That Dominican Preacher declared, " Do not be satisfied with little things, because God wants great things!"
Back to normal, to the way things were.
Please God, stop us from doing that!
Help us to be better than that!


For now, please Stay Home and Stay Safe!

Who Would Have Thought . . .

The seventy-seven year old was doing some personal reflecting with the eighty-one year old.
And this is not a joke; it is a true tale. I know for fact since I am the eighty-one year old.
We were engaged in a conversation recently, the two of us, "old timers," some would call us and so be it.
In a very real way, that is who we are.
And it all began with a question.
"Did you ever think you would live so long?"
Certainly, anyone who has arrived at eighty-one or even seventy-seven could easily raise that sort of question.
We are living longer but still, when you are forty or even fifty, ages like seventy or eighty seem so distant and people that old seem so, well, old.
Deep down we hope to live long, full and fulfilling lives.
Yet somehow when that reality starts to unfold there is an air of unreality about it.
"Did you ever expect to live so long?"
But then came the next question.
This was very much a question for today.
"Did you ever imagine we would be living through this?"
We of a certain age have lived through all sort of things.
For this eighty-one year old there are actually memories of at least segments of World War II.
I definitely remember hearing the radio announce the death of Franklin D. Roosevelt, the president who saw us through so much of that era.
I remember the great outbursts of joy at the word that the War was over.
And looking back to those days I can also, at least vaguely, recall something of the fear felt when Detroit erupted in 1943.
I lived through and remember Atomic Bomb Attack "rehearsals." We actually secured ourselves our classrooms by putting our heads down on our desks. Really?
And the basement of our school/church building was a bomb shelter.
I remember barrels filled with water and non-perishable foods.
And those yellow and black insignia indicating shelters.
Lived through so many presidents and popes.
Yes, I recall the excitement in 1958 when Cardinal Mooney was going to give Detroit Catholics the first-ever vote in the conclave to choose a successor to Pius XII.
And then came shock and disappointment with the news that the Cardinal, himself, had passed away.
Lived through the Cuban Missal Crisis.
Remember that because for the first time we, seminarians, were allowed to watch TV. If we were going to die, we might as well see the process unfold on the nightly news.
And I recall being laid up in the seminary infirmary with  pneumonia when JFK was assassinated.
I was among those speculating about our future as Church as the Second Vatican Council convened and I can recall learning and relearning and relearning still again how to stand at the altar and preside at the Mass. or is it Eucharist? or is it Liturgy?
My days saw first hand the Civil Rights movement of the 1960's and the Viet Nam Resistance of the 70's and the Watergate Scandal.
Lived through the fall of the Iron Curtain and the Berlin Wall.
Saw the arrival of the new Century and Millenium and searched for the predicted impact of Y2K.
Remember the morning of September 11, 2001.
So much!
So very, very much.
In all of these years, in all of life's journey those of us of a certain age can say that we, truly, have seen so much.
We thought that we had seen it all.
But then it came!
And here we are today living in a whole different, wholly unexpected world.
Pandemic!
"Did you ever imagine we would be living through this?"
Who would have thought?
Yet here we are.
Our journey continues.
And a new challenge confronts us.
Who would have thought?



Stay Home!
Stay Safe!
Keep us all safe!

Easter, 2020

Jim Harbaugh - yes, that Jim Harbaugh, the Michigan football coach - said it so very well in a recent interview. The gest of his interview was featured in the Easter Sunday edition of the Detroit Free Press - Sports Section, of course.
However, he was not exactly talking about sports in his comments.
Here is what he had to say, "God stopped the world from spinning."
That's the way he put it - God stopped the world from spinning.
That rather effectively captures Easter, 2020.
It is an Easter far different from any we have ever known.
It is a time far different from any we have known.
As that sportsman put it, "God stopped the world from spinning."
Think about it.
Capture the essence of the message being set before us in these days.
Just days ago we were taking great pride in how strong our economy was. The stock market was providing so many with such a degree of security - financial security.
And now? Today?
What has happened to that security?
Jobs were booming! Lowest unemployment figures probably in history. More security.
And now? Today?
What has happened to that security?
Our military was never stronger, never better equipped, never more ready to provide us all with a true sense of security.
We had an arsenal of weapons, modern, sophisticated - security.
And now? Today?
What has happened to that security?
What were all the forces and arms able to do against that invisible enemy?
We were entrenching that security with a wall. Those who might seek to harm us would be kept out.
Security.
And now? Today?
What has happened to that security?
How effective has that security barrier been against the enemy that is keeping us isolated for our own protection?
The great hero's whom we looked up to - those multimillionaire sports stars and entertainers - what security do they provide us now?
They are running just as hard and just as fast as any of us.
We were so strong, so invincible, so technologically advanced, we thought we needed no one else.
We were crafting for ourselves a story sounding so much like the biblical Tower of Babel story.
And then it happened.
Almost overnight.
God stopped the world from spinning!
Mr. Harbaugh, in that interview, suggested that "This is something that should be a time where we grow our faith for reverence  and respect for God."
Truth is set before us this Easter, 2020.
Our government cannot save us.
Our technology cannot save us.
Our military cannot save us.
Our walls cannot save us.
Our weaponry cannot save us.
Our stuff and our money cannot save us.
If we truly hunger to be saved, then we have no other option but to look to the Cross.
If we want true salvation, saving that is eternal, there is only One who can give us that.
God has stopped the world from spinning to give us a chance to know the importance of truly being saved.
God stopped the world from spinning to give us the time to look to the Cross,
and to look for the One who brings eternal saving power to us.
God stopped the world from spinning to invite us again to discover anew the One who truly has power over death itself!

He is Risen!
Alleluia!
And Happy Easter!



Meantime - Stay Home; Stay Safe!

The Real Thing!

 . . . If we can see it that way, that is what we have this year
The Real Thing!.
We are in the midst of the holiest of our days - The Sacred Triduum, The Easter Vigil, Easter itself.
It is also the time of Passover for our Jewish brothers and sisters.
The holiest of days in the whole Judeo-Christian world.
And this year some of the most unique days of our lifetimes!
We are not gathering in our churches or synagogues or temples.
From empty buildings services stream out via very modern technology into our homes.
We can watch. We can even respond prayerfully and if we feel the freedom, we can sing too.
Yet, truth is, we will feel isolated and, in fact, we will be isolated.
A tiny virus, invisible to the naked eye, has brought life as we know it to a standstill.
Any thought of traditional observances and gatherings are at a halt.
As we engage in these days, that ever ancient yet ever new question will resound with new meaning.
"Why is this night different from every other night?"
For so many years we have continued to observe the ancient rites and liturgies.
We know then, expect them, love them.
The fire . . .  and candle . . . "Rejoice, oh heavenly choirs . . . " and those seemingly never ending readings . . . and the water!
And is that the smell of garlic coming from those baskets? No baskets of food are creating their appetizing aromas this year.
And Passover Seders rely this year on pictures and substitute foods and families apart. How share the Matzohs this year?
Ah, yes!
We know the customs and traditions so, so very well.
This is the stuff of which Easter is made . . . and Passover.
Except this year.
Not this year!
This year we shut ourselves behind closed doors. This year we bolt tight our shutters. This year we huddle together with our closest, most loved ones.
Or we sit alone in the darkness, peering out the window at that radiant full moon, the first full moon of springtime.
The Passover Moon!
It seems to be the only brightness in an intensely dark world this year.
This year we have a different kind of Easter, a different sort of Passover.
We shelter seeking safety in the confines of our own homes.
Out there somewhere is a danger, for some a potentially life-threatening danger.
The threat lurks there, unseen yet real, very real.
And that means that this year, instead of songs and rituals and ceremonies, we can actually experience!
Think about it.
That very first Passover, that night in Egypt, there was then a darkness filled with such mystery!
Slaughter a lamb; mark your doorposts with its blood.
And then stay inside!
What strange thing was happening "out there?"
There was the darkness and the sounds - wailing, weeping, cries and screams!
Confined to those chambers the ancient Israelites could only imagine and wait and pray and fear.
Death was out there!
They knew - they truly knew their need for a Saving God!
They experienced it.
That was the first Passover.
And on another night, some centuries later, another night of darkness.
There had been the shock - betrayal! trial! condemnation! cross! death!
And His disciples huddled together in that Upper Room.
The night of a Friday folded into the daylong night of the Saturday.
Out there was what - -  fear, danger, death, darkness!
Huddled together in that Upper Room they felt the unseen fear of the danger "out there."
And we, year after year in story and song and traditions we would recall their stories. It was ours to try and remember.
But truth be told, we always knew the end of the stories and so there was a touch of joy in the midst of tension and anticipated success in the stories of terror.
In years past we told the stories and sang the songs.
This year - well, this time it is different.
This year we are called to actually experience the moment.
Like those ancestors in faith of other times, today we live behind closed doors, shuttered windows. There is an unseen terror out there, powerful, potentially deadly.
And we have no where to go except to huddle in our Upper Room in the face of danger.
In our Upper Rooms this year we can experience our need for the One Who Saves.
We long for, hunger for, sense in a real way the emptiness we  can face without His Presence.
It has been observed that the best Evangelists are those who know -- who actually have experienced.
And this year we have been plunged into that experience.
We are not singing songs this year.
We are experiencing the real thing - the experience of those first disciples on that first Easter.
We need to hear those first words of that first Easter:
"Fear not!"

Silent

From as far back as I can remember Good Friday has been marked as a day of silence.
What can we say? What should we say in the light of this stunning display of God's love?
We go silent!
As a youngster that meant minimum words used, no radio and eventually no television.
Church services were at nine in the morning. We heard the Scriptures but, of course, back then, they were in Latin. Over and over again we responded to the invitations, "Oremus." "Flectamus genua." "Levate!"
Up we stood and then down on our knees and then up once again.
And we prayed and prayed and prayed.
And then came the cross.
And lines of faithful of every age queued forward to bow, to reverence, to acknowledge the instrument of our salvation.
And finally the Mass of the Presanctified.
No Mass on this day.
Only some brief prayers and Communion for the presider.
And in those days there were signs in almost every business establishment.
White background, black bold letters.
We will close 12:00 to 3:00 Good Friday!
For that  brief time life stopped.
Closed!
Time to pause.
To reflect.
To remember.
To be surrounded by the silence.
And the wonder of the cross.
And when three o'clock arrived, it seemed as if life itself resumed.
And that was then.
And now . . .
This year.
Life will pause again.
In fact it already has.
It has been put on hold not just for three hours but for days now and weeks.
And even when three o'clock arrives, life will in so many ways still remain on hold.
Things are so different this year.
If we enter the rituals and ceremonies, it will be through the modern marvel of streaming. We will watch and pray from the isolation of our homes. If we take time, and we do now have plenty of time, we can truly let our minds and hearts get to the very heart of this day.
He suffered . . . as do so many today . . . the victims of this pandemic, the ones who seek in their own ways to respond and help . . . those who simply sit alone and lonely . . . those who are frightened . . . those who have no home in which to take shelter and find safety . . . those who run not only from this scourge but from the others they have known - war, persecution, violence, discrimination, hate, hunger, poverty.
So many!
So much suffering.
And that is why we need the silence of Good Friday.
We need to wrap our minds around this truth.
Jesus Christ was in control.
Jesus Christ is in control.
He did not die until He gave permission for it to happen.
"It is finished!"
He controls death . . .
and life . . .
and through Him we shall overcome.
We can overcome!  
Hear Him tell us that . . .
In the Silence.                                              

Different

Yes!
It is going to be different this year.
It is time for Triduum, for Christians, the holiest of days, the center of our year.
For our sisters and brothers of the Jewish tradition, it is Passover, also a time most sacred and holy.
For me, personally, I can look back at a number of years, and, believe me, I do have a number of years now. In all of my years there has never been a time more significant, more treasured than this time of year.
Looking back at past blogs, I have in the past shared with you some of my Triduum memories.
There was the Babushka Brigade that in my way younger years would emerge early every Holy Saturday morning for the blessing of the fire. Actually, it was more than just a fire blessing in the Polish tradition.
Contained within the fire were branches, thorn branches!
And when the fire was blessed and doused, there was the scramble for some of those branches. The Babushka Brigade sprung into action!
And then there was that Holy Thursday/Good Friday night into morning when, as a teenager I was able to convince a group of my teen friends to stir in the middle of the night to go to church (open all night back then) and spend an hour in prayer - specifically the hour between two and three A.M.!
Try and convince the police that this gang of teens was really headed to church!
They coould see a gang of teens roaming the streets in the middle of the night. They needed to see the lights on and doors open to the church.
But for me Holy Thursday always, far back as I can remember, meant Mass and Communion and celebrating still anew that great Gift that the Lord Jesus gave to us on the night before He died.
In my early years Holy Thursday Mass was in the morning. Mass ended with the Eucharistic procession and then all day long and on into and throughout the night a vigil of prayer.
And I was there, most often one of the ones actually serving the Mass.
In the 1950's Pope Pius XII initiated the first wave of Holy Week reforms.
Mass on Holy Thursday would now be in the evening, in a sense uniting us with the gathering in that Upper Room on the night before Jesus died.
Because back then, to receive Communion meant fasting (no - and I do mean NO - food and/or drink from midnight) to enable and encourage our Communion at the Mass of the Lord's Supper, a three hour rule was established. No solid food from three hours before Communion and no liquids for one hour before.
Easy enough!
But one year I forgot!
And do I still remember that one!
I don't remember what it was that I ate, but I did eat something and it was solid and it was within that three hour timeframe!
And I was serving the Mass that evening.
And I would not be able to receive Communion!
Unthinkable!
Before Mass began I was there early to help get things ready.
My pastor was also there to oversee matters.
And my pastor was not exactly anything easily described as "left of center."
Strict rules! Strict traditions!
But I took a chance and laid out before him that I had eaten something. Could not receive Communion.
And I still remember what came next.
"Why not?" he asked. "What's more important? Keeping that rule? or receiving your Lord? You're hungry, aren't you? For Him? So, receive Him!"
You're hungry for Him!
This year Holy Thursday a whole lot of hungry people are just going to continue to go hungry!
Things are different this year.
We will not gather at the Table.
We will only have occasion to share in Communion and Community by some streaming service. Vicariously! At a distance! Personal distancing!
Maybe this year we are even hungrier than usual, and we should be.
Things are different this year.
We will remain hungry and I will join with you in that hunger.
On his first Holy Thursday as our Holy Father, Francis challenged priests to acquire the smell of the sheep.
For so many Holy Thursdays we gathered at that Table.
Not this year.
The sheep will go hungry.
And I will join you in that hunger.
This year that is the "smell of the sheep."
Hunger!
And it hurts!

. . . And Finally!

The hours of Good Friday merged into those of Holy Saturday.
This is our truly quiet time.
Nothing is happening.
Nothing is scheduled.
This is our time of waiting for the first light of the truly new day.
But these are not really empty hours, not for those who know.
For some these are busy hours, very busy hours.
It is in this time that the somber shadings of Lent give way to the glory of the Day that soon will be dawning.
This is the time for that often silent, often secret but always necessary ministry in the Church to swing into action.
This is the time for those who provide the environment, those who craft the beauty, those who work so tirelessly behind the scenes to spring into action.
In the few hours that they have it is the task of those who provide our festive settings to spring into action.
And in the midst of their action that year, the year of the Christmas Tree that wouldn't go away, that Christmas Tree now transformed into the stark shape of the cross, those in charge of decor had this extra item with which to deal.
It just stood there!
Two trunks, devoid of branches now, empty of pine needles, two trunks joined together to form a cross.
And through the weeks that the Tree continued its presence, disgust began to morph into curiosity and then into a sense of awe.
Those in charge of decorating as Easter drew nearer became increasingly fascinated by that Tree.
Now it stood as a sign of God's great love for us.
And, therefore, it should be honored.
And indeed it was.
The decorating crew went to work in those hours before Easter.
They decked those branch bones with garland and vines and flowers.
Suddenly that old barren skeleton blossomed!
It was still a cross but now a jubilant, triumphant witness to the Victory that had been claimed for us by the cross.
It was radiant again but now not with the radiance of Christmas lights and trinkets.
This was a new radiance.
The vines, the blossoms, the beauty all now spoke of springtime and life!
That Christmas Tree that wouldn't go away was now the symbol of our gratitude to that oh so loving God.
It was beautiful with a new sort of beauty,  the beauty that comes when winter is overcome by spring and when death is overcome by life.
It was now an Easter Tree.
And still some weeks later, when the days of Pentecost were accomplished, bright red streams of fabric extended from that Tree out into and over the Assembled People of God.
That Tree seemed to be saying: Remember, you are a Spirit-filled People, filled with the very Spirit of the Risen Lord Jesus!
And then at last the time had come.
With the closing of Pentecost Sunday it was time, at last, for the tTree to depart.
But in those final moments something else happened.
Still another surprise.
A parishioner stepped forth and asked what would happen next.
"Nothing," was the reply.
"Can I have it, then?" the question.
And so what remained of the Christmas Tree that Wouldn't was carried away.
Gone!
At last!
Into a parishioner's workshop where the remains of that wood would be cut and crafted by the hands of a skilled woodsmith.
And he made of it a miniature stable.
And the next Christmas that stable stood before the altar housing the images of those whose "Yes" made this all possible.
The Christmas Tree that Wouldn't was still around!

OK . . . Stay!

Good Friday arrived.
And that remaining single trunk of the once glorious Christmas Tree stood tall and stately, still claiming its space, not giving up.
It was definitely not going away . . . not yet.
Over the past weeks attempts had been made to rid the building of that thing.
All failed!
Suggestions were offered in terms of why the thing still stood there. One reason was exchanged for still another.
All fell short.
And then, at last Good Friday arrived.
And the traditional Service for Good Friday began to unfold.
Scripture passages were proclaimed
John's Gospel once again related the greatest of love stories: For God so loved the world . . .
Ancient prayers called out to the gathered faithful: Let us pray . . .  let us kneel . . . let us stand.
And little by little we held in prayer all of the people, God's People, all for whom He gave His life in love on that cross.
And then it came!
Moments of silence were finally broken as from the rear of the church building musically the voice proclaimed:
Behold the wood of the cross on which hung the Savior of the world!
All eyes shifted to the back of the building.
And there it was!
That second trunk of the tree, that old Christmas Tree.
The second trunk; the one that had mysteriously disappeared days ago.
Now it was being carried horizontally, led by servers bearing lighted candles.
A pause once again in the middle of the Assembly.
And once again that proclamation in song, "Behold the wood of the cross on which hung the Savior of the world!"
And all sung in response, "Come, let us worship!"
And the procession moved on to the front, to the standing, remaining trunk of the old Christmas Tree.
And the carried crossbeam was fastened to the vertical tree trunk.
And we saw it!
As for a third time, now so much more powerfully than before the proclamation rang out.
Behold the wood of the cross on which hung the Savior of the world!
And we could see it right there before our very eyes.
 The old Christmas Tree had been transformed.
It was now a cross.
Come, let us worship!
That symbol of our joy at the coming of the Long Awaited One, the Promised One,
That symbol remanent that began more and more graphically to reflect the ugliness of our sinfulness, of our lack of love, of our many, many failures,
That symbol now stood before us transformed.
It was a cross!
It spoke now our the reason for His coming to dwell among us.
It spoke now of His willingness to embrace all of the ugliness of our sins.
It spoke now of His great love for us.
Behold the wood of the cross on which hung the Savior of the world.
Come, let us worship!



Still more to come . . . 


Meantime - Stay Safe! Stay Home!

And Still that Tree Does Stand . . .

Lent arrived and that Christmas Tree that Wouldn't didn't.
It still stood there.
It wasn't going anywhere.
The festive lights were now long gone.
The shiny ornaments and decorations were long ago stashed away.
Still the tree stood.
Or what remained of it still stood.
By the arrival of Lent almost all of the pine needles were also gone, fallen, vacuumed and properly disposed of.
The skeleton of that Tree remained - the double trunks and the branches.
But even these were drying.
And as they dried, they grew increasingly brittle.
And then it started.
The tiny ones first and within days and weeks the larger ones.
The branches began to break and fall.
The brittle bones of the tree began to break.
The poor thing was becoming less and less.
(And full disclosure here - I will admit to "helping" some of those branches break away.)
Palm Sunday arrived.
It was again time to wave those palm fronds and proclaim, "Hosanna!"
And two stark, lonely limbs remained standing of that Christmas Tree that Wouldn't.
Two trunks formed the base of that tree.
Two trunks still remained.
And that was all that remained, those two bare and barren stems of that once magnificent tree.
The two remaining stems, that double trunk,, still jutted upward, six feet? seven? Perhaps even a bit more.
This stark memento of days gone by, wondrous days, glory days, jubilant days, now just this stark memento stood silently before us.
It still would not go away.
At least for that Palm Sunday it would remain with us.
And then, shortly after the waving of the palms, something happened.
Only a handful who happened to be present that afternoon would notice it.
Only a select few would know.
For a brief while, the Christmas Tree that Wouldn't, did!
It actually went away.
For just a brief while, a few minutes,
just long enough . . .
and when it was returned only one trunk remained.
The second had been removed.
Deliberately.
Now only one stark but strong stem remained of the Christmas Tree that Wouldn't;t
And that single tree trunk stood in greeting as we gathered on that Thursday Evening to begin the most sacred of our days.
Triduum began and as we entered into these hours we were greeted yet again by all that remained, a strong, single stem jutting heavenward.
It was time for the Tree to unfold the greatest of its lessons!


Oh, yes! Still more is coming . . .


Meantime - -  stay safe; stay home; stay strong!