Happy, er . . . or Merry, er . . . or Seasons . . .

How do we say it?

How should we say it?

The December Dilemma is now upon us in full force.

Will someone be offended by my greeting?

Should I care?

Should I try to be "politically correct" or throw caution to the wind?

Happy Holidays!

Or should it be Season's Greetings?

And having set those two options out there, I can almost hear the outcry, somewhere in the distance but, oh, so very real.

It's Merry Christmas!

That's what it is!

Christmas!

And don't anyone dare to give the shortened - Xmas - version!

Christmas!

And that is that!

We are celebrating the birth of the Lord, Jesus Christ, and that is that! So, Merry Christmas!

And please note, I use the word "birth" rather than birthday because, truth be told - and close your ears and, perhaps, even your mind for this one - we really do not know for fact the exact day of the actual birth of Jesus! There are no records to be had, no certificates of birth, nothing of the sort. The Gospels are silent when it comes to giving us even a hint of when this event took place. There is no mention of snow or cold or hint of winter or blossoms of spring or even of a torrid summer day. The actual birthday of Jesus could well have been in July!

 We who believe, we people of faith, are called to celebrate the coming of Jesus into our history, Emmanuel, God with us. That is the critical fact not an actual day of birth.

And in our earliest years, our ancestors in faith did not celebrate anything like  this at all. They started with a clean slate, an empty calendar. For many years there was no "Christmas" or even Church calendar!

Oh, there was, indeed, a celebration late December. It was a grand and glorious celebration, a feast for which folks really did look forward.

As the days grew shorter and the dark nights longer, people without the modern luxury of electricity, found themselves ever more limited in terms of work, travel, activities of most any sort. The darkness kind of locked them in. The darkness was inhibiting, restricting, even fearful.

And so they prayed as they knew how and they begged and pleaded with the gods as they knew back then. And they knew one great, powerful god who had the power to dispel the darkness.

The Invincible Sun God!

To this god they would feast with song and dance and festivities so powerful as to compel this god to return yet again and drive out this all-encompassing darkness. It was a celebration designed to show that Sun God just how fun it could be in our midst.

And it worked!

Days began to grow longer; times of sunlight began to increase. That Sun God heard the prayers, the invitation of the people and saw the joyfulness with which they would great him. And the celebration brought about results.

And, honestly, the whole thing was a lot of fun, So much so, in fact, that as the Roman World became increasingly Christian, there were some things that the newly minted believers were hesitant to give up.

Like that December Party!

And so we "baptized" it!

We made it to be a celebration of the coming of the true Light into this all too dark world. Early on I suspect many elements of that more ancient feast were folded into this observance but as the centuries passed, this observance became more and more a religious event centering solely around the coming of the Light of the World into our darkness.

But eventually a fellow named Clement Clarke Moore discovered untapped potential in this celebration and his discovery provided encouragement for the likes of Hallmark and then Sears and Neumann Marcus and a whole lot of others who jumped on the gifting, greeting bandwagon.

And then came the big, really big discovery.

We are not all Western Europeans!

We are a richly diverse people with a wondrous array of celebrations. We have things like Hanukkah which is an even more ancient celebration of light and Kwanzaa, a more modern celebration of basic values and a multitude of folk out there who adhere to none of the above traditions but who still feel the need to celebrate something in the midst of so much darkness.

And so we have what we have today - a symphony of feasts!

But if you look at all of them, in one way or other they all speak of a very basic human longing, a deep and often unrecognized hunger.  

Those decorations speak of a longing for light in the midst of so much darkness.

Those gifts speak of a longing for the greatest of gifts - the Gift that can set us truly free.

Those gatherings and dinners and parties and phone calls and greeting cards speak of a longing to be connected, community rather than disconnected and disjointed.

So many in their celebrating of so much in this time of the year do not even realize the hunger which they express in their revelry.

Those of us who know, who believe, who proclaim "Merry Christmas!" have found what so very many seek even without admitting their emptiness.

And we do not help them by beating them over the head with, "It's Christmas, dummy!"

To whatever manner in which they choose to greet us, we can respond gently, with courtesy,  "Merry Christmas to you too."

And when we hear them say, "Happy Holidays," we might see that as an invitation to speak a silent prayer for them that they find what they do not even admit they seek.

And when we hear them say, "Seasons Greetings," again that invitation.

A whole lot of people are seeking and searching because there is truly a whole lot of darkness these days, a whole lot of darkness.

Prayerfully, respectfully, charitable we can respond to them in a way that invites them to know that we have found the very Gift that they are seeking.

Welcome their "Happy Holidays!" or "Seasons Greetings!"

Then bless them back with "Merry Christmas!" 

And a silent prayer!

“Getting vaccinated is a simple yet profound way to care for one another, especially the most vulnerable,”  - Pope Francis 

The Lost Election

I am suspecting that the reason why I have lost every recent papal election may well have to do with the days that are upon us now.

And just in case you have not noticed, as of yet I have not won a papal election. While I might still claim to being "too young," that excuse is loosing its grip.

Time to face the real reason.

I suspect that there are some cardinals out there who know!

They have discovered what one of my first official acts just might be.

And they are afraid of the repercussions and as a result, I have continued to get overlooked in the balloting for pope!

So, I just might as well go public with what I would have done had I actually gotten elected. (Oh, and BTW, someday some future office holder just may do what I am suggesting.)

It has to do with our calendar.

It needs a change! A major one!

Soon now in churches all across the globe, Catholic and other Christian denominations, the People of God will once again have to put up with presiders cheerfully announcing, "Happy New Year!"

And then, as happens year in and year out, they will explain that the calendar does still have another month to the present year. However, we are talking Church Year and the new Church year begins on the First Sunday of Advent.

And so, "Happy New Year!"

As Pope I would declare that our Church Year will no longer begin on the First Sunday of Advent. Instead, let's pick a far more suitable and meaningful time.

How about Ash Wednesday?

Would it not make more sense spiritually to begin a New Year with a season of repentance and renewal, a dedicated time for strengthening our efforts to do better and be better?

But . . . but . . .  but! I can hear it now.

But  The Story begins with Advent!

We cannot do what you suggest. It would destroy The Story!

And, true! The Story does begin with Advent. If we are about the telling and retelling of The Story, well then, Advent takes us back in our memory to those days and years and even centuries of waiting. And then Christmas comes and the waiting is fulfilled and the Promise is kept and then the rest of  The Story unfolds - Magi and Baptism and teachings and healings and Jerusalem and Calvary and so on and so on.

Yes, the year should begin with Advent if we are all and only about a telling and retelling of The Story.

If the whole purpose of our seasons and our feasts is merely a sort of nostalgic remembering of events from some distant yesterday, then the starting point, logically, would be Advent.

But I say and I emphasize that little word - IF.

It is, most certainly, important that we remember our past. However, when it comes to religious remembering, to the remembering that we seek to embodying our feasts and seasons, that remembering must serve a purpose far greater than the telling and retelling of stories from our past. Our remembering is and should be for the sake of forming our present and guiding us into our future.

The Hebrews of old remembered each Passover the events of their past, the memories of the Exodus Events not just for the sake of telling historic tales but for the sake of opening themselves here and now to the working of God right now in their present moments and also to dispose themselves to a longing for the day when God's Will would reach fulfillment. "Next year, in Jerusalem."

Advent, while it can serve to properly dispose us to a coming feast, should be far more important.

It should serve to heighten our awareness of the fact that the Lord who once came to dwell among us, still is present to us here and now. Advent should  awaken anew our sense of care of all who enable and invite us to love and serve Him in very real, concrete, here and now ways - in our service to the poor, the hungry, the imprisoned, the stranger, the sick, the refugee, the marginalized and so on. "Whatsoever you do for the least of my brethren, that you do unto me!"

Add to that Advent should stir up within us the awareness that we are moving day by day, hour by hour toward that day when we will see Him face to face. He will come again and we will see His face and hear His voice!

It certainly seems to me that having Advent at the closing of our Church Year would serve to focus ur attention more sharply on a Day yet to come and on the day that is right here under our eyes.

However, it can certainly be easier and more comfy to focus on a Once-upon-a-time story from some long ago yesterday, especially one that involves a little Baby. Living in the past can be way more comforting than facing the present and embracing that uncatchable tomorrow.

But we should not be about comfort. We, followers of the Gospel, should be about being challenged to live the Gospel right now.

And that can be painful.

Singing "Silent Night" is way easier than living "Wake, Awake, the Night is Dying!"

But think about it.

Advent focuses us on how things will end. Christmas focuses us on what is right here before us, the opportunities here and now.

And then we start anew with ashes marking our foreheads and calling us to get busy doing better.

Nice!

But ain't gonna happen.

I can't get elected!

And I am getting too old!

“Getting vaccinated is a simple yet profound way to care for one another, especially the most vulnerable,”  - Pope Francis 

The End of the World

And here it comes!

The Thirty-Third Sunday in Ordinary  Time

AKA a Sunday after Pentecost in certain Christian Traditions

But, however you may call it, here comes the final "Green Sunday" of the current liturgical year.

And this, in almost every mainstream Christian tradition is the weekend when we hear those wondrous words. You know the ones. They are all about such neat happenings like stars falling from the sky and sun and moon no longer giving their light and famines and earthquakes and all sorts of other exciting happenings.

And when these words are finished being set out before us, this year from the Gospel of Mark next year we will get to enjoy Luke and last year we embraced Matthew's version, well, when these words are set out before us, we will conclude with the declaration, ""The Gospel of the Lord."

And we will respond with our "Thanks be to God!"

Gospel, by the way, means Good News!

So, stars falling, sun dimming, earthquakes rumbling and famines famishing - all Good News!

Well, chances are that in many (most) churches throughout the United States, we will simply give that response and close our books and maybe even our minds.

We certainly do not have to worry about stuff like that, do we?

After all, that is about the End of the World and who knows when that will come and it hasn't come in all these years, so why worry now? Just listen, and then respond with our words of gratitude.

Unless . . . 

What if these words of Jesus are echoing often repeated biblical words - words about not just a time when all will end but times when the world as we know it will end?

What if Jesus, like prophets of old, was telling us that we should expect that there will be times when the world as we know it will come to an end? It would in fact seem to be truly Good News if we were being told in advance that such times of endings will come and they will have the potential for being times of blessing. They will challenge us and invite us to reexamine what has been and they will give us the opportunity to make new and different and better.

What if these words were telling us to expect  a time such as we have been having since March, 2020,  a time that, while seeming to ease presently, has actually brought about an ending of the world as we once knew it?

Consider all that we have been living through in recent months. We have literally seen the world shut down. The Mighty United States was brought low, not just in that far away place of Afghanistan but right here in our own land with businesses shut, education virtual and emergency rooms overcrowded and thousands of lives ended.

Together with that we have been experiencing our view of history and of all humankind questioned and challenged by the resurfacing of an awareness of the -isms that haunt us and even still shape so many of us and our customs and institutions. We have been brought face to face with the need for some radical change.

To all of this we have seen flood-causing rains tearing through the streets of our cities and the basements of our homes, ravaging flames eradicating whole neighborhoods. Choose to ignore or choose to face, nature itself is raging against us.

The litany goes on.

And truly these are days when the sun and moon have been darkened and the stars have been falling from the sky.

But when Jesus and the prophets before Him spoke of those days of world-ending events, they spoke to a people of faith, a people who believed in God who truly is ever in command. Jesus spoke to a people who knew from experience the wonder and depth of God's love for them, a love that would not let go of them but rather a love that would guide them through those dark, ending times into a new and better time.

To fully embrace these words and to fully enter into this most turbulent and cathartic time of our today, we need to be that people of faith, that people who can listen to the Voice of the Lord, read the signs of this time and embrace the call to do better, to be better.

Of course it is always possible to ignore the possibility of God at work. It is possible to refuse any Divine invitation. We can choose to simply go back to the "good old days."

Or we can choose to grow and in that growing to commit ourselves to building better and being better.

After all, Jesus has called us to be citizens, not of any kingdom of this world but rather of the Kingdom of God.

And we are not there yet!

“Getting vaccinated is a simple yet profound way to care for one another, especially the most vulnerable,”  - Pope Francis 

An Hour!

Twenty- one dollars!

That is not per month,

or per week

or even per day.

That is twenty-one dollars per hour!

That is what I heard the other day while driving to or from somewhere or other. The car radio was on and the current news was being broadcast and that is when I heard it. 

Some major  bank was offering twenty-one dollars an hour as the entry level wage. They were announcing that, at least for their employees, twenty-one dollars an hour would be considered the minimum wage!

Of course, with our current situation and so many hesitant for one reason or other, mostly fear of returning to on site workplaces in light of the still evident pandemic and others hesitant because of the difficulty of providing proper childcare and such, prospective employers are offering greater and greater incentives to recruit workers.

I have seen oh so many "Help Wanted" signs.

I have seen signs offering a starting salary of fifteen dollars an hour, eighteen dollars and hour and, of course, those offering to cover young workers' college tuition costs.

And now - twenty-one dollars an hour!

That took me back and perhaps I can even take you back a bit as I share my journey.

I started working as a delvery carrier for the Detroit Free Press. That was back in the early 1950's and my route, considered a rather large one for the time, involved delivering the evening edition of the newspaper. In addition to delivering the papers, weekly it fell to me to also collect from the customers. My pay for this work consisted of a percentage of what I collected plus any tips given.

A good week might bring me around $5.00, sometimes even a it better. That was for the week not the hour!

In high school I managed to get a part time and then summer job in a drug store. I was the stock boy and my duties mostly consisted of unloading deliveries, replenishing merchandise on shelves an occasionally, when busy, waiting on customers. That drug store was located a block from a local "stadium" and Friday evenings were especially tension-filled. The store had an ice cream counter and if a stadium game ended before closing time, fans flocked to the counter for a treat. That meant filling in as soda jerk to a mob of frenzied fans, working late but not for overtime.

Pay for that job, as I recall, was a straight twenty dollars.

Per week - not per hour.

Had a couple of other summer jobs - one year processing traffic tickets for the City of Detroit and another processing property tax payments. 

A dollar something per hour for that work, and a straight forty hours per week.

One summer I got a really good paying job!

I worked on the Wayne County Road Crew- tarring roads, painting weigh scales and  fun stuff like that while making the grand sum of $2.14 per hour!

That summer I was rich!

And I had a great tan!

There were also a couple of summers when I worked and lived on campus at Orchard Lake doing office clerical work. Didn't earn as much as that Road Commission job but there was that extra perk. I could "'sing" Masses early mornings.

In those days places like that had multiple altars and early mornings the priests on faculty would descend for their Masses. They were able to collect stipends for those Masses and the usual stipend was $3.00 for a Low Mass and $5.00 for a High Mass.

A High Mass meant a sung Mass and so the priest had to find someone to sing certain parts of the Mass. For that special service the singer received $1.00. And because altars were so nice and close to each other, it was possible to be present and singing for a couple of Masses almost simultaneously!

In an hour on a good day that could mean five/six dollars per hour! And that all before actually going to work.

When I was ordained, I arrived.

I now had a guaranteed, regular paycheck.

My starting salary was a whole seventy-five dollars.

Per month!

Ah! But there was a perks hidden here as well.

Those stipends for those daily Masses were ours. That meant an extra five dollars a day every day.

Add it all up!

And that was then.

This is now - twenty-one dollars an hour, fifteen dollars an hour, eighteen dollars an hour!

And here we are.

And you just might make the observation - Yes, but way back when, things were way less expensive than they are today. Just look at some prices - gas today is what? $3.29 a gallon? Back when - eighteen cents a gallon! Bread - back when twenty cents? Today - $3.00 and up a loaf! Back when a night's stay at the equivalent of a Motel Six was $18 but today, well, let's talk about pushing a hundred dollars and up just for a place to sleep for the night!

Yes, things cost more now, no question about it.

And we cost more - workers today expect more, request more, even demand more.

Is it that things cost more because we earn more or is it that we earn more because things cost more?

And which came first - chicken or egg?

Fact is that we probably did just fine back in the days when . . .

And we are doing just fine today as well.

The numbers may have changed but the basic human circumstances are rather the same today as they were back in the day.

We still can afford (even if we tend to complain about cost) and we still have a little to put away for that rainy day.

And very, very likely today, just like yesterday, we even have some extra to share with those who for whatever reason cannot possibly realize anywhere near twenty-one dollars an hour.

Of even a day.

Or sometimes even a week!

Times were good for so many of us back in the day . . . and times are good today.

“Getting vaccinated is a simple yet profound way to care for one another, especially the most vulnerable,” Pope Francis 

Words for Our Time . . . for All Time

Before I forget . . .  before I lose it . . .  which is all too easy to happen, I want to put these words down to be captured and remembered and, hopefully, treasured.

So, here it comes.

And the words inspiring this writing come from someone that you may admire, you may treasure or, conversely, you may despise, maybe even loathe.

So be it.

But heed these words.

Latch onto these words.

Even, please, treasure these words.

They are important, critically important.

They are words spoken by the Vice-President of the United States of American on this day, September 11, 2021, twenty years after that horrid and fateful day, that 9/11.

Kamala Harris spoke them today at the memorial service in Shanksville, Pennsylvania.

Please hear them with your ears, your eyes and most importantly, your heart.

This place, she declared, is sanctified by sacrifice.

Sanctified by sacrifice!

In the air above that field thirty-three, mostly strangers, who happened to be in the same plane at the same time, confronting the same terror at the same time, united, responded and sacrificed for the sake of others.

And now that field, that place, is sanctified by sacrifice.

And that is a truth that needs to resound loudly, so very, very loudly in our time, twenty years later.

Sanctified by sacrifice.

Is not that the lesson that that young Israelite caught to teach us all on that hill called Calvary some twenty centuries ago?

Sanctified by sacrifice.

That hill is now considered sanctified by the Sacrifice of Jesus Christ who gave His life so that we might truly live.

And those buildings that we call, sometimes, churches, sometimes synagogues or even temples, and sometimes mosques as well and all other such places, they are considered holy, sanctified by sacrifice.

And those places which we call "home"  are truly such when they are filled with the spirit of sacrifice - parents for their children, siblings one of each other - holy - sanctified by sacrifice.

And communities become special, yes, even holy, sanctified when the members are filled with that spirit that leads to thinking of one another, working with and for one another and sacrificing for one another.

Sanctified by sacrifice!

In this time when so many are bending to the temptation to think first and often only of themselves, when the rallying cry seems to be "freedom" at any cost, we need this reminder.

We are called first and foremost to holiness, to sanctity.

It is in this that our lives are truly fulfilled, made whole when we are becoming holy.

And, as that field in Shanksville, Pennsylvania, reminds us -

Sanctification comes through sacrifice.

Sanctify this land of ours by sacrifice.

And sanctify yourself by your willingness to sacrifice!

Meantime, 

Keep Praying

 . . . and Stay Safe!

Oh! And please  get your shot! It's the charitable thing to do.

Another Travel Trauma

 And so this time it was one named Ida.

And that ever lively, incredibly unique place known as New Orleans has been battered yet again.

Before Ida there was Katrina. And a year before Katrina there was little known, less remembered Ivan.

But there really was Ivan!

And I can testify to that confidently because I knew Ivan up close and personal.

Ivan was another of those Travel with me but first sign this "Hazzard-waver-declaration" stories.

Fortunately, the Ivan saga does not involve any sort of group travel, at least not on my part.

The year was 2004 and New Orleans was the venue for the annual International Catholic Stewardship Conference, an event that started on Sunday evening, rather informally with a "Taste of New Orleans" event and an opportunity to view and simply the wares of  numerous vendors.

The choice of New Orleans was most welcome for me as at that time I had a time share in that great city. That would mean no additional cost for accommodations and, the time share being used for the conference, the maintenance fees could qualify as a professional expense tax deduction.

I and our parish business manager signed on for the conference. It officially began on Monday morning and would end around noon on Thursday. The timing was perfect since I was scheduled to lead a retreat back in Michigan beginning on Friday evening.

To get cheap rates, we flew into New Orleans on Saturday and would return home Thursday afternoon.

That was the plan.

One small adjustment - the time share was undergoing some renovations and so we would be housed, not in the Garden District but rather almost downtown. We would still have a suite but now we would be within walking distance of the conference activities.

We were also directly across the street from the casino!

Now that did not draw my interest but it certainly caught the attention of the business manager. (Should I have had suspicions because of his job and this "attraction"?) Well, let's just say that we went to dinner Saturday after arriving and then I headed back to our suite while he headed , well, across the street.

Sunday morning we were at the cathedral for Mass and afterward, he announced that breakfast, or still better, jazz brunch was on him. His visit the previous evening had been rather profitable.

Sunday evening after the Taste of New Orleans, the previous evening's story unfolded yet again. I headed to the room and he to the - across th street. And frankly, I did not mind the time alone as it provided me an opportunity to review some of the content for the coming weekend's retreat.

Monday arrived and the working session got underway. However, a new item was beginning to capture attention and conversation - Ivan.

It was out there and it was intensifying and it could even be headed right in our direction.

Should we worry?

Seemed not - at least not yet then.

Monday's dinner was another treat since, once again, fortune had been good the evening before across the street!

And Tuesday arrived and with its arrival a new mood was in the air.

This Ivan thing was getting serious. A direct hit was looking more possible. Sesoned dwellers in the city were clearly making their moves and those moves were headed in one general direction.

OUT!

They were clearly running for safety, taking no chances.

Windows were being boarded and shops were being emptied.

When we got to the conference center, we could not help but notice that the scheduled speakers were arriving for their sessions with travel bags and luggage in tow. They were making their presentations and then heading out.

Not looking good at all.

Time to make a move.

Between conference sessions we headed to the phones. Call the airlines. Book a flight out - any flight and as it became clear that we were truly begging, any flight anywhere. Begger's can't be choosy and we could get somewhere and then worry about a connecting flight to Detroit.

But flights were being cancelled as soon as we connected with an agent. Houston? Sure? Two tickets? No problem.

Oops! That flight just got cancelled!

And so the story went.

Train?

Nothing available.

Rent a car?

None available anymore.

Just plan on bunkering down and riding things out and hope for the best.

Oh - and now Ivan is ranking as a category five!

Worst possible scenario!

End of the day Tuesday the announcement was made. The remainder of the Stewardship Conference was officially cancelled.

Go home!

Yea! Right! Good luck with that now.

We headed back to our hotel which, by time of our arrival, was something of a madhouse. All sorts for folk, mostly families with small children, were trying to get in, get rooms. Being suites, that meant every accommodation had at least a small refrigerator and stove and, thus, meal preparations would be possible. The hotel also had begun providing late afternoon finger foods and early morning light breakfasts. And the first four floors were now off lints. No rooms would be offered under the fifth floor just in case the water level . . .  well, you can imagine!

We were offered the possibility of moving down to the fifth floor. (We were on eleven.) We took the offer as we both thought of what life might be like if power was lost and elevators were not working and the only way down was the stairway - eleven floors! Not a chance!

Settled in our new accommodations, it was now time for some dinner. And that became a new discovery. In New Orleans - known for its cuisine - restaurants were closed and boarded up. However, some distance away we managed to find a TGIF still open and serving food.

Menu?

No!

We are cooking whatever is left so that it doesn't spoil in the storm. We will serve you dinner - certainly. You will get whatever the chef is able to put together for you.

Dinner had, we headed back to our hotel. No stopover that evening at the casino. It was closed and shuttered.

Ivan was bearing down on New Orleans.

Wednesday arrived and this great, never sleeping city was a ghost town- no traffic anywhere, winds intensifying, silence deafening.

We needed something to eat. The breakfast lite was sufficient but not totally filling. Only where might we find anyone still serving food?

I had an idea. A couple of blocks away was one of those super-fine, super-expensive hotels. They would certain feel obliged to provide food for their clientele. And I was right! Good food! White glove service and folks all round dressed to the nines!

It felt like we were on the Titanic - dining while the waters poured in.

And in a sense that was a correct assessment since, by the time we finished our dinners, the main entrances were now boarded up and impassable. We would have to leave through the service entrance.

The walk back was marked by blistery winds bringing stinging sand and dirt into our faces. Police cars were circling all around, loudspeakers announcing a total, stay in place, curfew. When we got to our hotel, we were immediately informed that, once in our room, we could not leave until an all clear was sounded.

And we were instructed to fill our bathtub!

Just in case the water was shut off!

And so we waited.

And watched the Weather Channel!

Who ever thought of spending an evening in New Orleans watching the Weather Channel?

But we learned something. 

A pivotal moment was coming soon - long around 10:45 PM.

At that time, with prevailing weather patterns and water temperatures and who knows what all else, it was possible that Ivan could ever so slightly change course. If that happened, New Orleans would be spared and the storm would move eastward.

And so we waited and watched and maybe even prayed.

And the patterns did their trick! And the storm ever so slightly changed course, slightly but still enough.

We would be spared!

The next day the city was still mostly a ghost town. We were finally able to book flights back home - not until Friday and not both of us on the same flight.I would take the earlier flight, early enough for me to get into a car and head on off to begin that weekend retreat.

We had experienced a city under seige.

The storm had been avoided.

But the next year New Orleans was not so fortunate.

And this year again - not so fortunate

For our sisters and brothers, suffering in whatever way from this vicious act of nature:

let us pray to the Lord!

Meantime, 

Keep Praying

 . . . and Stay Safe!

Oh! And please  get your shot! It's the charitable thing to do.

That Day in July . . .

 It was a Sunday . . .  the 24th of July, 1967.

And almost as usual, life began to unfold in the parish early on that Sunday morning.

Our schedules in hand, we, the clergy began to enter into our last minute preparations for the Masses over which we would preside on that Sunday morning.

The early Mass folk were already beginning to arrive at that modest sized, Westside, mostly Polish parish.

It was beginning as just another Sunday.

Or so most of us thought.

But that morning there was one difference.

There was a police car outside, directly front of the front entrance to the church. And a couple of the occupants were asking to speak to the clergy.

Alone . . .  apart from the gathering crowd . . .  somewhere somewhat isolated so that what was about to be said would be spoken in a degree of secrecy.

At least for the moment.

Clergy gathered (and remember, this was 1967 and many parishes back then had more than a single priest!) and the officers spoke to us.

No need for alarm and certainly there is no need to alarm the congregation. However, there is some "trouble" in the streets somewhat nearby. Because of that, keep things as brief as possible and simply, calmly at the end of the Mass encourage everyone to go directly home. Tell them not to linger, socialize or head out anywhere for breakfast. 

Straight home . . .  and immediately.

Some "trouble" in the streets somewhat nearby!

July 24 is the anniversary day of the founding, the establishment of Detroit. 1701 was the day. And here it was - another July 24 only this year, 1967, Detroit was taking a different turn in its identity.

Late night or early morning, depending on your sense of time, something had happened that set tempers flaring and unleashed long pent up frustrations.

And there was violence in the streets.

Some 'trouble" somewhat nearby!

Masses went on as usual and as scheduled. Folks were encouraged to not linger but rather head straight home. As the morning progressed, folks arriving were hearing something of the news of that "trouble" somewhat nearby.

And a bit later that Sunday, I had the opportunity of hosting a gathering of a handful of faculty and students from the University of Detroit. At that time I was a student in the graduate program there, taking courses in education and counseling. Our gathering consisted of some like minds, folks who could name trends and issues impacting society and analyze and speculate possible results.

One of the items that came up was the current condition of Detroit's black population. Several of the faculty spoke about how surprised they were that something had not yet erupted, given the prevalence of racism and its effects.

The discussion continued along those lines on into the evening.

The time came for my guests to depart. The sky was darkening. Night was descending.

And as we emerged from our gathering in that rectory, we could see something more.

Flames were tearing through that darkness.

Somewhere not too distant from where we were, neighborhoods were ablaze.

It was then that I remembered that early morning visit from those law officers. It was then that I realized that the time had, indeed, come.

A people had been dehumanized for far too long.

Now much pent up anger was emerging, erupting, tearing through the streets.

Langston Hughes captured it so very, very well. "What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up Like a raisin in the sun?... Or does it explode?"

Every human being has a dream, a God-given dream and that is to be treated as, respected as a human being, made in the image and likeness of God.

And when that dream is deferred . . . it does not dry up like some raisin in the sun.

July 24, 1967 - the results of a dream  deferred!

Meantime, 

Keep Praying

 . . . and Stay Safe!

Oh! And please  get your shot! It's the charitable thing to do.

And Yet Another . . .

I know! 

I know!

It has been a while but, well, sometimes that inspirational muse just takes a little time off and in such times it is better to be silent than to just dish out verbiage.

Or whatever!

Anyhow, while it has been a while, I think I have some words to put together for you now.

So let's get right to it!

And as I get right to it, notice again how I have titled this musing. I am calling this "And Yet Another . . . "

And that "Other" would be SS. Cyril and Methodius Seminary on the beautiful grounds of Orchard Lake here in Michigan.

This seminary is a part of my story, my history.

In 1956 I was sent, as was the policy back then, for my college studies to St. Mary's College on the Orchard Lake Campus. After two yers of liberal arts college, in Junior Year, I entered the study of philosophy, the first two years of actual seminary study. Those two years of philosophy would be followed by four years of theology studies but, for me, those four would happen in Plymouth, Michigan in what was back then our major seminary, St. John's.

However, I would live and study for my four college years at Orchard Lake and the seminary program there became a part of my history.

Some years later, ordained, working in a parish, I was also chosen to work on a new degree, this time in Liturgical Theology. Something known as Vatican II had happened and changes were in the wind and it was evident that there was a need for those who could provide resources and insights and education to help parishes, priests, laity and candidates for various ministries to adjust in a hopefully healthy manner to the changes.

I earned my degree from the prestigious University of Notre Dame and almost immediately I was recruited to be an adjunct faculty member in that seminary at Orchard Lake.

Once again SS. Cyril and Methodius Seminary became a part of my personal history and it remained so for a number of years. I continued as adjunct faculty into the 1980's and was called back into service several times after that.

And now this piece of my personal story is about to go away.

The announcement has been made and the decision is rather final - SS. Cyril and Methodius Seminary in Orchard Lake, Michigan will be closing its doors - permanently.

And that means that yet another part of my history disappears.

I say "Another" because it has been a number of years now since St. John's Seminary closed its doors. That was my home for my original theology studies. From its halls I emerged to be ordained for my years of ministry.

Closed . . . gone.

And I look at the parishes in which I ministered . . . 

St. Cunegunda - still around but a shadow, a mere skeleton of its former self.

St. Bartholomew - gone . . . another piece of that history no longer to be found.

And there was that gem of a parish right in the City of Detroit - Precious Blood, certainly one of the most beautiful of buildings housing some of the most beautiful People of God . . . it evolved into St. Peter Claver nd then . . . well, another void, yet another.

And my roots  . . . that part of my history that set the very foundation of my growth? Well, that would be SS. Cyril and Methodius Parish and School.

Also now gone . . .

Oh, true, there continues to be a SS. Cyril and Methodius Parish, now located in Sterling Heights, Michigan. And this new entity houses some artifacts from the original church, my home parish. Yet, truth be told, this is not the Home I knew growing up. St. Cyril was more than the place we worshipped and went to school. It was our community, our very identity.

And that St. Cyril is now but a memory.

And the Sisters who ministered in that original St. Cyril? Dominicans, originally the Dominican Sisters of St. Rose of Lime, also known as the Oxford Dominicans.

I led a number of retreats on the Oxford Dominican Campus and as a youngster, took part in any number of visits, pilgrimages and festivals there. In retirement I was driving out to Oxford to serve as part--time chaplain for the good Sisters weekly for some time.

I was there when they became the Dominican Sisters of Pece and I was there when . . . they became yet another!

Gone!

And now I am looking back at all so many parts of my life, my formation, my story and realizing that they live now, not as they once did, but they live only within me.

I am SS. Cyril and Methodius Parish and School and I am the Oxford Dominicans and I am SS. Cyril and Methodius Seminary and I am St. John's Seminary and I am St.. Bartholomew Parish and the Church of the Precious Blood.

The institutions are no more but their work, their beauty, their worth continues . . . in me and in folks like me.

Isn't that true of any of our stories, especially as the years roll on by?

The forces that formed us fade away but the work they have done lives on . . .

in us!

Meantime, 

Keep Praying

 . . . and Stay Safe!

Oh! And get your shot! 

The One "They" Didn't Get (Yet!)

Time to celebrate that One - The One "They" didn't get (yet.)

I am talking, here, to Catholics in particular, but also to Christians in general.

We are about to celebrate one of our Big Ones.

Pentecost is with us, one of our most major feasts and celebrations.

Actually, it is one of our Big Three in terms of historical and theological importance.

And it still stands as the One They" didn't get (yet.)

Among those top three stands Christmas, of course. Historically and theologically this is the least of the Big Three. Nevertheless, "They" got it.  Christmas  is rooted in religious meaning and significance but, let's face it, today one really has to dig deep to find that. Planning, shopping, preparing for Christmas begins, these days, when? Around Memorial Day? So much to do! So much to plan! Cards and presents and parties and gatherings and decorations, and . . . and  . .  and . . .

Oh, yes, and find the time to get to church! Squeeze that it, don't forget.

Yep! "They" got it.

OK, someone just might set forth the argument that Christmas really started out as a pagan feast  and then we, Christians, took it over and now, with the passage of time, the original owners are reclaiming it.

And an argument could be made for that sort of thinking but fact is, yes, there was originally a pagan feast centered around the darkest of days and the return of the great Sun God, but when Rome finally saw the Light and grew more and more Christian, that celebration no longer made sense but its meaning really did speak to one of our very basic tenets - that the True Light of the World has come to dwell among us.

And that deserves to be celebrated.

And for centuries, we did - at least until "They" got it and filled it with commercialism.

And  when "They" got Christmas, then there was Easter.

That one is the most important day in the Christian year, no question about it.

And it is so filled with theological significance that it presents a real challenge to those commercializers.

After all, how do you cutesy up something like death/resurrection, suffering to glory, redeeming love?

Well, it may have been a challenge and it may have taken it bit, but "They" did get it.

And now we have bunnies and chicks and all those cute little signs of springtime, because, after all, this really is all about springtime, isn't it?

And now those tasty Peeps are even appearing as soon as the Valentine chocolates disappear. (And, true, Valentine's Day is also one more of ours but Valentine's is only a rather minor player, actually not even on our official calendar of saints anymore.)

But as to Easter - now our young are being taught to assume that, just like Santa at Christmas, that Easter Bunny will be bringing not just candy treats but also more and more expensive, new toys and gadgets to celebrate springtime.That is what Easter is all about - springtime!

And so it is that "They" got Easter.

But "They" still have not found a way to get the one we are about to unfold again.

"They" have still not figured out how to get Pentecost.

And what do you do, what can you do with Tongues of Fire and that mighty whirlwind and those bold, very vocal proclaimers of the Good News of God's redeeming love, those folk who just days, even hours ago were shivering in their boots, locked behind shutters and doors. Something happened, seriously happened to cause them to break forth and speak out.

How do you cutesy that?

Well, maybe you do not even try.

After all, Pentecost is all about Church and Message and in today's world, who really wants the nuisance of Church and Message Especially that Message!

Church - you can whisper some prayers and mouth some hymns and spend your hour or so in your gathering.

But please, please - do not come bursting through those doors, shouting out your Message of that God and the power of that redeeming Love!

Just keep quiet, please. 

Pentecost will be ignored.

"They" won't try to get it. "They" do not want it.

And we can keep it just as long as we also keep our light under that bushel basket!

And leave "Them" alone!

But hopefully "We" know what to do with Pentecost!

Meantime, 

Keep Praying

 . . . and Stay Safe!

Oh! And get your shot! 

Saying It Out Loud!

Believe me.

I have thought long and hard about this writing. And, yes, I have even prayed over its possibility.

And I have gone back and forth. Should I write this? Or should I just let it go?

And, obviously, I have decided to write and not just let go. However, even as I write this, I want you to know that I am doing so not to garner some sort of "Poor you" responses or anything of the sort.

I have decided to write this because I hope that I am a person of faith and that faith colors my whole being. It tells me who I am and how I am and most importantly, how I should be.

And as a person of faith, I also hunger to see that gift and blessing in the lives of others, in your life. And I hunger to see the impact of faith in shaping the way you view your days and live your life.

And I also know that sometimes that can be difficult, sometimes even very, very difficult.

And I am thinking that maybe, just as in those days of old, when the likes of those first evangelists sought to spread the Good News, and when those words, mostly of personal testimony, enabled people of faith to live boldly even in the most trying of times, well, maybe, just maybe, words giving testimony of faith lived, can enable and embolden someone (you?) today in our times.

So it is that I have decided to share my today's story with you. And I hope and pray that, somehow, it may empower your faith as you seek to embrace what life is setting before you today.

The story I share really unfolded big time on March 30, 2021, although parts of it were already in play some time before.

March 30 - I had an appointment with my urologist. This was primarily a consult.

Some time before he was expressing suspicions about numbers and findings and stuff that fascinates those medical types. According to the things I was consulting, my numbers were just fine, expected and normal for someone of my age.  But he was not buying it. Something was looking suspicious and so he kept pursuing. Test and then still another test and let's take still another look.

And at that meeting on the 30th day of March he shared with me his conclusion. 

"We need to do a biopsy."

The numbers were not right and the indications were not right and we needed to check and see if, perhaps, something was hiding there, something we needed to face and deal with.

And so it was that a biopsy was scheduled. And we all know who comes to mind when we hear that word - biopsy!

But that was, on that day, only part of the story unfolding.

It seems that the evening before, thanks to the technology with which I choose to surround myself, my watch, yes! watch! signaled to me that it was detecting some sort of irregular cardiac activity and that, if not previously identified by my primary care person or any other, I should consult.

Now that is not exactly the sort of signal one needs before heading off to slumber!

But following through the next day I did call and inform my primary care person of that signal. Whereupon I was told to get into the office ASAP!

So from the biopsy consult, I headed off for still another adventure.

And the result of that one sent me to a cardiologist and that launched me into all sorts of testings and even today wearing one of those monitors and another test tomorrow and findings and results to be revealed likely at the end of the month of May.

Heart issues?

Well, who knows. Later on that one. But the possibilities are there.

And then there was that biopsy.

Initial results?

Stage One prostate cancer.

Yep! That word. Cancer.

We meet soon to discuss options and possibilities and courses of action.

And that at present is me - heart issues and cancer.

And I say that and share that because, as I said at the very beginning of this writing, I am a person of faith.

I am at peace and I am calm and I firmly believe that this is because, as a person of faith, i know that I am in the hands of One who loves me intensely. He takes care of me. He will continue to take care of me. No matter what direction things may take for me, I need not worry and, surprisingly, I do not worry. I am not worried.

Life is not about clinging to what we have right now.

Life, true life, is about being so truly free as to place one's self into the hands of the One who loves us and letting Him call the shots.

And doing that - one can find true peace.

And He did say, "Peace be with you!"

That is what He wants for every one of us.

I truly am at peace.

And I pray that you may you have that too!

Meantime, 

Keep Praying

 . . . and Stay Safe!

Oh! And get your shot! 

That "New World" Dawning

As more and more vaccines roll out and get into human arms, we are clearly moving to a time when this pandemic will be behind us. By that I do not mean to imply that Covid is totally finished with us - not yet; not for a long time and perhaps not ever. Covid will still be around, sort of like measles and chicken pox and such. However, thanks to medical science, we will be gaining the upper hand and eventually be able to get back to some sort of normal living.

But what might that normal living look like in this New World, this post-pandemic world?

I am going to set out some of my thoughts but I also invite you to put forth some of yours. Down below in this blog you find a pace for your comments. The whole idea of a blog is to stimulate thought and even evoke those comments and some discussion. So, while I set out some of my thoughts, how about joining in with some of yours?

And to start, here is an easy one from me.

Many a workplace has already changed permanently. 

The idea of working from home has caught on and as a result, it will not be going away. Offices may very well change in nature and homes may be   designed or redesigned to accommodate workspace. But the idea of working from home also means that an employer's potential for qualified workers can expand geographically. An additional bonus may well be a better, healthier morale as employees can more readily bond with their families.

And masks!

Think that they will totally go away?

I wonder.

I have been hearing folks remarking about how flu season and cold season became milder, likely due to mask wearing. And allergies are also being tempered by those masks. Maybe they will not be as intensely worn as during the days of pandemic but my suspicion is that they will be more used and more visible in public in the days ahead.

And Zoom! or some form of Zoom is definitely here to stay.

A means for connecting across the miles, a means for inviting into meetings and lectures and various other activities has now been opened. It needs to be continued and even expanded. Homebound can now "get out." Got home late from work? No problem. Zoom in and have your say at that meeting of the church ushers.

And right alongside the Zoom stuff - let's take a glance at what has been happening with churches. And while I am sure there has been an impact across the board on all denominations and faith traditions, I can rather knowingly speak with the Catholic Church in mind.

Streaming Masses! Definitely these need to continue. And no! Emphatically, NO! They must not be allowed to take the place of our real presence. We need to renew ourselves as a faith community, to see each other, speak with each other, share the all so long absent greeting of peace and even get in one another's way. We need to physically affirm that we are not in some sort of solitary relationship with God but rather in that healthy relationship that includes all of God's children. 

However, having said that, I still strongly believe in the value of streaming parish Masses. Think about it. Parish members who for whatever reason cannot physically join the faith community, those who are limited by physical disabilities or medical situations could still be present with the faith community. Sure, there have been and still are those Masses for shut-ins but, let's face it. Is it not far better to be able to join in prayer and worship with people you know, seeing faces you recognize, maybe even exchanging those little sidebar messages.

And how about challenging parishes to really get creative with Sunday streaming? How about getting lists of those participating via the internet. And then commissioning Ministers of the Eucharist to go directly from the live Mass to the homes of those participating by streaming and actually join them to the live community by bringing them Communion!

Can't be done? Says who?

A New World demands some new thoughts and new ideas and new ways - and hopefully better ways.

I hav set out a couple of my ideas.

What about you.

See that word blow "Comment"? The number ahead of it indicates there is a coment or two. It is also a link inviting you to open, read and more.

That's for you to share an idea or two or offer a comment as well. Click and, behold, a chance to offer your own wisdom!

Come on! Join the conversation. Let's together imagine that New World as it is coming into being.

Meantime, 

Keep Praying

 . . . and Stay Safe! 

An Upside-down World

 Welcome to the upside-down world of God!

That is the thought before me as we enter again these days, the most sacred, most significant of all our days in the year.

It is Triduum - the span of time stretching from evening of Thursday on through that Friday and into Silent Saturday until finally culminating on Sunday Evening. Three Days that actually seem to merge into one. Three Days unlike any other in all of human history.

These  Three Days set before us the World of God, the Upside-down World of God.

As these Days begin Jesus, the One called Lord and Master washes feet, the feet of His followers.

Greatness is found in service and not in mastery.

Welcome to the Upside-down World of God!

Then at table the Almighty One chooses to come to us not with thunder and lightening and roaring, whirling winds but through the fragile Signs of Bread and Wine transformed.

Welcome to the Upside-down World of God!

And in that garden we hear a prayer. It is not - "Let me have it my way!" Nor do we hear - "I know what is good for me or right for me." It is "Not My will but Thine be done!"

Welcome to the Upside-down World of God!

Then comes Friday - that Friday and we are hearing other words, strange words, strange especially from Someone so abused, so broken, so beaten, so unfairly, unjustly treated.

"Father, forgive them. They know not what they are doing!"

Forgive!

Welcome to the Upside-down World of God!

And on that cross we see One stronger, nobler, more in control than those in power who have put Him there.

"This day you will be with Me in paradise!"

"Into Your hands I commend My spirit!"

Strength present in what looks like weakness.

Welcome to the Upside-down World of God!

And on Saturday we wait in the silence of what looks like a burial place, a cemetery but what is really a garden, a place where life is stirring.

Not a cemetery but a garden!

Welcome to the Upside-down World of God!

And then comes that Sunday, that day unlike any in all of human history.

He is dead!

Look again!

Where's the body?

Why are you looking for the living among the dead?

Welcome to the Upside-down World of God!

You think you know what is real?

You don't really know anything until you start getting to know the Kingdom of God, and then you begin to discover that God's ways are truly nowhere near our ways.

Welcome to the Upside-down World of God!

Meantime, 

Keep Praying

 . . . and Stay Safe! 

OK! Alitalia!

 (Just to let you know - you are coming in in the middle of a story and to understand what follows, you really need to first read the previous two blogs.)

So, there we were, up high in the sky, flying along smoothly on ur way from New York to Milan.

Only our destination was supposed to be Rome.

But way up high in that sky there was not much anyone could do about the situation. Sit back; relax; enjoy a beverage; get ready to have some dinner.

At a certain point when things seemed to be settling in the cabin, I decided this might be a good time to draw attention to the fact that the airline had on board a number of passangers crossing the Atlantic and headed to the wrong destination.

I got the attention of one of the flight attendants and I set before her our plight.

She assured that she would get to work on this situation immediately and so she did.

Within minutes she was back to inform me that the airline was well aware of our situation and that, even as we sailed all those miles up there in the air, Alitalia was at work to provide us with proper connections.

When we would land in Milan, we would pass through international customs and then be escorted to a flight which would take us directly to Rome.

Not only that. Our travel agency was also now on top of the situation. They knew what was being arranged. Out guide was being notified and when we did finally land in Rome, the guide would be ready and waiting to get us  going on the trip that had been planned.

We would be fine.

All was good.

Sit back and relax.

Alitalia was in control of things.

And so we continued up high in the sky with breakfast served and customs forms passed out and filled out and everything in the ready. Finally, we landed in Milan and were efficiently escorted through customs and passport check. We sat as a group together in the waiting area and only a short time later our names were being called to board our flight to Rome.

At last!

One by one we took our seats on the plane that would take us the final leg of that incredible journey.

One by one . . .  until . . .

All seats were filled and preparations were being made for our departure but something was just not right. Some familiar faces, faces of members of our group were missing!

Stop! I proclaimed.

We are missing some of our group.

A very courteous flight attendant informed me that all seats were filled and those left behind would be placed a different flight, a flight, I was also informed, that would be going to a "slightly different" airport in Rome.

But they could not go to a different airport! We were a group and many had never traveled to Rome before and we would be split and they would be lost. Unsatisfactory solution!

I would not seat down and get strapped in.

We needed a better solution.

I was escorted off the plane by an airline official who took me into another one of those impressive managerial  offices so a call could be made to somewhere higher up to see what could be done about this situation.

Call made and still another flight slightly delayed because of our group. I was asked to sit with those who had been left behind, seven to be exact. We were assured that everything would be just fine.

Moments later the parade began.

Passengers were being escorted off the flight that should have been on its way to Rome.

One, two, three . . . all in all seven removed.

And then the attendant came to us to lead us onto that flight with the seventh had been left behind now have seats. Seven others unfortunately were soon to be on their way on a different flight to a "slightly different" airport in Rome.

And we, at last, as a group all together were on our way to Rome.

Short flight and sure enough upon arrival there was our tour guide all set to met us and get us on our way almost as planned and almost right on time even after all that had transpired.

With one little concern still remaining.

Our luggage!

Where did it go?

No problem!

Alitalia had handled it all.

The luggage was right there in Rome in the airport under the guard of our tour guide and just waiting for us to claim it.

Somehow that luggage managed to get the correct direct flight to Rome even though we did not.

Alitalia had done it!

The luggage was in Rome; we were in Rome.

OK! Alitalia!

Meantime, 

Keep Praying

 . . . and Stay Safe! 

 

Oy Vey! Alitalia!

 (Just to let you know - you are coming in in the middle of a story and to understand what follows, you really need to first read the previous blog publication.)

Standby!

From tourist class to first class and now to standby!

But that was the option, the only option that Pan Am was giving us. We could sit tight and wait and hope and see if standby seats were available for the next flight to Rome.

However, there was another issue.

We were traveling as a group and so what if some standby seats did become available but not enough for our entire group? What happens to those left behind? Would they get on a different flight? Perhaps two or even three different flights? And should that be the case, how do we connect in the hours and maybe even days ahead some six thousand miles away?

And then someone in that very impressive Pan Am office made another suggestion.

Would it help to speak with someone from Alitalia?

Well, since that is where this whole saga began, it certainly seemed like a rather logical move. And so the call was placed to Alitalia and the conversation began.

First a significant door was slammed shut.

The Alitalia representative verified that no authorization could possibly have been given to exchange our tourist tickets for first class. Did anyone recall the name of the agent who gave us that information? Of course, no-one did. The culprit would go scott free!

But yes, Alitalia would cover any standby arrangements. No problem there.

And then came the clincher.

But why were we even dealing with Pan Am?

Alitalia was flying!

In fact the evening flights to Italy were getting set to go right now. How many seats did we need? Yes, there were enough (possibly even our up to then abandoned seats?) on the flight that had just boarded. That flight was scheduled to depart in fifteen minutes.

Get back to the Alitalia terminal ASAP and we would be on our way to Italy almost as scheduled.

Now the Alitalia terminal was right next to the Pan Am terminal. However, unless we walked (and have you ever tried to get a travel group walking briskly? Almost running?) we would need to take the airport shuttle and because the airport road is one way, we would have to patiently sit tight on the vehicle as it made its way all around the airport terminals.

But at this point more help came from those agents in those fancy offices.

Alitalia would hold the flight until we got there.

And so off we went, onto the shuttle and around the airport.

We finally arrived at the Alitalia terminal and agents were standing ready, waiting our arrival.

They whisked us off the shuttle and through the airport, skipping any formalities like passport checks and such. Right through the terminal and onto the plane where, sure enough, seats were waiting for us, just the right number.

And once we were safely on our way, up there five miles above the good earth, there would be beverages (and did we want something like that!) and there would be dinner finally.

And so off we went.

And up we went.

And at last we were on our way. Roma, here we come!

And then the pilot spoke his words of welcome, the usual stuff about how glad they were that we were flying with Alitalia and how, when we had reached that certain altitude, drinks would be served, the seat belt sign would be turned off and we would enjoy dinner.

And then "it" came.

Welcome to Alitalia Flight number --, direct from New York to Milan!

Only we were supposed to be headed to Rome!

But Milan!

Well, when you are 30,000 feet in the air, you do not just get out and board a different vehicle.

We were on our way but . . .

And, of course, there is more to this saga so check back soon!

Meantime, 

Keep Praying

 . . . and Stay Safe! 

Aye! Alitalia!

 Time for another travel adventure!

And, Oh Yes, I do have more travel stories to share. Just in case you have not surmised this for yourself as of yet, if you have been following this Blog on a regular basis, I have had my share of travel adventures and anyone who has dared to travel with me could plan on an adventure or two in the process. I guess you cn just be grateful that I have now reached the age where travel is rather limited and restricted. The "risk" is likely gone now but once it was a reality and here comes still another example.

This one was a group tour beginning in Rome and venturing off into Austria, Germany, Switzerland and France. I believe this also included a full hour's tour of Luxembourg, just about long enough a stay to enjoy the whole country.

Our trip began with a late morning flight from Detroit to New York. In New York we would catch our Alitalia flight direct to Rome, leaving early evening and arriving very early (Rome time) the next morning.

The timing between our Detroit/New York and the New York/Rome flights was fantastic. We would have time in the airport to relax, catch a decent lunch and be off across the Pond.

And so it began!

Flight to New York - on time; smooth and easy. Next step was to check in with Alitalia and then relax, enjoy, catch a decent late lunch and get ready to board that flight to Rome. There would be dinner onboard but that might not be until around 9:00 PM and so that late but substantial lunch was rather important.

We were off to a great start that is until we got into the Alitalia terminal.

Then it surrounded us.

Pure pandimonium!

People everywhere! Voices raised! Arms and tickets waving in the air! And it seemed like no-one tending the service counters, no-one in an airline uniform, no-one looking like they were in charge or even available to answer questions or provide any assistance.

And clearly from the scene all around some sort of assistance was needed.

Especially when we noticed the Arrival and Departure boards.

All flights cancelled!

Of course, since our trip was arranged by a group travel agency, there would certainly be someone available to assist us in this situation - of course - NOT!

An agent was at the airport in Detroit to assist us, making certain that we had proper tickets, identification, documentation and such. All of our luggage was properly checked through directly to Rome. We would not have to deal with anything while awaiting our Alitalia flight in New York. Smooth sailing and so there was no foreseen need for an agent to meet us in the Big Apple.

We were totally on our own.

And the flights were cancelled as the Big Board informed us.

And finally, finally some agents arrived to staff the service desks in the terminal and as one might imagine, they were immediately swamped by dozens of concerned and even irrate would-be travelers. We were finally able to get to one and to get some actual attention.

Our plight was explained and the agent seemed truly concerned. Could he help our group? He would try? Would we ming being booked on a different airline? Of course not! Not as long as we could get to Rome.

Phone calling began. (This was a while back, remember, and computer usage was still in its infancy. 

Then! Bingo!

The agent was able to find sufficient seats on another airline headed that very evening for Rome. The flight was with PanAm. (Told you that this was a while ago.) However, sad to say, the only seats they could get us were all in first class. Would we mind? Seriously? Would we mind?

First class across the ocean to Rome - such a sacrifice!

By now half of that once free afternoon had been taken from us and we still had to get to the PanAm terminal and get properly checked in but there was still time for that late (very late) lunch before boarding. The PanAm terminal was in a different building and so we had to get transportation and get ourselves into the proper building.

And off we went to PanAm where, upon arrival at that terminal we discovered lines, long lines waiting for ticketing. I think it was also at this time that someone asked about our luggage - like where will that being headed since it was checked through from Detroit. Least of our concerns at this time was the reply. We just needed to get those new tickets into our hands.

The line, long as it was, ate up nearly another hour of our once free afternoon but we finally arrived at the ticket counter. Our situation was explained and we were politely informed that we really did not even have to be in that line. All we needed to do was go directly to the boarding gate. We would be ticketed there.

And so we headed to the boarding gate where (of course) there was no one at the counter since it was still very early and departure was still a couple of hours away. Dare we leave to get some eats? Or should we stay put and secure those tickets?

Stay put - the decision was rendered. And gradually those minutes of planned free time disappeared.

And good things we all stayed put because after another hour had gone away, the announcement came over the PA system that the departure gate for the Rome flight had been changed.

And when I say "Changed," I truly mean changed. The PanAm terminal was Y shaped. We were at a gate at one extreme of that Y and the newly announced gate was at the totally other extreme end of the Y.

We had some fast foot traveling to do. Good thing we were not hauling luggage! Winded we arrived at the new departure gate and, behold, there were actually agents already at the counter. Of course, by this time, it was becoming increasingly evident that were would be boarding rather hungry. That once ample time for lunch had almost totally disappeared by now. Just get those tickets or boarding passes or whatever and get onto that plane.

Only when we got to the service desk and explained the situation, the agent informed us that there was no record of any such arrangements!

Would I like to speak with someone higher up?

You bet!

And so I was escorted into this rather impressive office of someone who was clearly "higher up."

Who very politely listened to the entire saga and then equally politely informed me that such an arrangement was clearly impossible since our type economy (tourist) tickets are never exchanged for first class seating. Best he could offer was to place us on standby!

Aye! Alitalia!

And, of course, there is more to this saga so check back soon!

Meantime, 

Keep Praying

 . . . and Stay Safe! 

Missing the Mark!

 Or maybe The Mark is Missing!

However one decides to state it, as Ash Wednesday, the start of our Lenten Season approaches this year, we are still in the midst of dealing with the pandemic. And, of course, that means things like social distancing, masking and being to the extent humanly possible somehow touchless.

Ash Wednesday, therefore, presents something of a challenge this year.

Traditionally on this day ashes made from the previous year's dried palm branches are blessed. After the blessing of those ashes, the faithful come forward in procession to have their foreheads marked with a smudge of ashes in the form of a cross. Then, all through the remainder of that day, in workplaces, schools, markets, places of business and up and down the streets those marked with the ashes are clearly visible.

The Mark of the Ashes is there for all to see.

Only this is the year of the continuing pandemic.

And how apply those ashes to that forehead and shape that cross while maintaining that touchless thing?

Well, there are solutions.

One possibility - the masked ministers of the ashes can use either a Qtip or cotton ball to apply the ashes to the forehead in form of a cross. That way the Mark is maintained.

The drawback to that possibility is that a fresh Tip or cotton ball must be used for each penitent and that would mean, in most parish settings, a whole lot of Qtips or cotton balls and someone alongside each minister to present fresh equipment while receiving the used. Not very practical unless dealing with a very small number and even with seating and attendance limitations these days, most churches will still be welcoming significant numbers.

The second solution - and the one that has actually emerged from the Vatican does away with the Mark!

Ashes would still be individually administered but in a pandemic appropriate touchless manner.

Sprinkle some ashes on the head of each penitent!

Grasp a pinch of those ashes with your fingers and sprinkle them over the recipient's head.

Actually, if someone is bald, they would still be marked - sort of.

And as to the rest - well, you will still received those ashes; they will still be there but just not totally visible - unless, perhaps, you are among us sliver-haired elders.

But this year for very, very many the Mark of the Ashes will be missing.

But the ashes will still be there.

And words, familiar words - Remember, you are dust and to dust you shall return - will still be spoken before those ashes are distributed.

And Ash Wednesday will still be Ash Wednesday.

And Lent will begin.

And so many will be walking around on that Ash Wednesday with those Marks missing from the foreheads.

Which just may be a good thing.

Because? Well, because we will know that we have those ashes right up there, on top, so very near to that "grey matter" that is also up there. And I suspect that especially this year those ashes, while not visible, will be crying out to be noticed the way that they really should be noticed.

They should be trying to get inside that grey matter up there to speak to us and to remind us that this time called Lent is not about some show and demonstration and "look at what I am doing!"

Those hidden ashes up there should be speaking to us deep within and calling us to remember that this time, this Sacred Time, is all about getting closer to being what God knows that we can be and doing what God knows we should be doing.

Those ashes so near our Centers of Thought may ask us to examine our words, our actions and our attitudes in regard to a whole lot of things and issues and, yes, people. Those ashes just may raise the question in our minds - Is this what God wants of me? Really?

Those ashes might start a process going deep within, where real transformation begins.

Those ashes, silent and hardly visible, might move us on the way to the inner change necessary to bring about some much needed exterior change. This year's Missing Mark just may lead us to a Lent that is truly On the Mark!

And wouldn't it be wonderful if, instead of Marked foreheads on Ash Wednesday we emerged more as Marked Christians on Easter Sunday?

Why not?

Meantime, 

Keep Praying

 . . . and Stay Safe! 

Welcome to the Family, Mason!

 Yes, indeed! Welcome to the Family!

(And, perhaps, here a word of explanation is in order. Mason is a young lad being baptized this weekend. He is not an infant anymore and so he is rather aware of what is happening. He is all of - what? Five? Anyhow, he has a little bit of life behind him and he is not a baby being baptized. He has an awareness. And so to him I address this message. Perhaps someone will even print this and give it to him when he is a bit older and able to understand better.)

So here goes - Welcome to the Family, Mason!

No, not your human family. You entered that a couple of years ago. That was the easy family to break into.

I am speaking of a whole different kind of Family now, Mason. When that water flows across your head and you feel the oil smeared there as well, when you are holding that candle (assuming that your dad lets you hold the candle) when all of that happens, you will have entered the Family of which I speak, an incredible, amazing  Family, not always perfect but definitely stunning.

It is a Family not bound together by natural blood but by a whole different sort of Blood, Blood shed by One who loved us, loves you, so deeply that He was willing to give His own life so that you, all of us, could live forever. His is the Blood that binds us together and makes us this unique Family.

And I have a strong suspicion that your grandma, who passed into this forever life not too long ago, well, when she arrived, I suspect that one of the first things she did was tap that One who so loves us on the shoulder and she pointed to you and said to Him something like, "Get that boy into the Family!"

Grandmas are like that - always looking after and always loving even across that barrier we call "death."

And so here you come into the Family.

Get to know some of your ancestors in this Family. We have some truly remarkable folk on our Family  Tree.

We go back, way back to include among those whose heirs we are names like Abraham and Isaac and Joseph and Moses. These are names to you now but when you grow a bit older, get to know their stories. You will be impressed.

And you really must come to know a lady from a place called Nazareth. Mary is her name. Mother, housewife, simple, quiet woman who with a single word changed the whole course of human history.

And her husband, Joseph, not a single word of his is recorded in any book, not even the Bible, and yet he holds a place of highest honor in our Family, your Family.

And guys like Peter and Andrew and James and John and Matthew, oh yes, Matthew, get to know his story. It is an important one.

And don't forget Paul (aka Saul.) He wanted to wipe our Family out forever and he was set about doing just that when something happened and he totally changed course, becoming one of the strongest voices for our Family.

And lest I sound like I am throwing a spotlight on the male members of our Family, let me also set before you some of our amazing women - like the Theresa - Theresa of Avila, a woman way ahead of her time, and Thesese of Liseaux,  died too young but live a richly beautiful life, and Theresa of Calcutta, who spent  herself for the folk no one else would give the time of day for. We are blessed in our Family with women who have done and continue to do some remarkable things. Our Family has strong women!

And yes, we do have all kinds in our Family - rich and poor, strong and weak, important and very ordinary, old and young, married and single and widowed as well. We come from every century and every corner of this earth. In this Family you have relatives almost everywhere and from every era in history.

And Mason, I heard that one day not so long ago, you heard your grandma saying something about praying and you said to her something like, "I've got to find out more about that praying thing."

Well, praying, you will learn, is about having conversations with your Family, this Family, even and especially with the One who gave His Life for us, with His mother (and ours) Mary and with any of the others as you get to know them. Even if they have been gone from life on this earth for years and even centuries, they are still Family and we are bound together and they will listen because they care and they can listen because they truly live!

You will have an incredible Family now, Mason!

Welcome!

Oh, and one more thing. 

Take a minute to talk to your grandma and thank her for pointing you out and telling the One who loves us, "Get him into our Family!"

That is what praying is.

And YES!

 

Meantime, 

Keep Praying

 . . . and Stay Safe! 

It's Time

 Just read a post of Facebook from someone I know. It said simply, "Taking down the tree" and was followed by one of those emojis depicting a face flooded with tears.

Sad moment.

Almost immediately there came a second post, one from still another whom I have come to know over the years. This one showed a photograph of a fireplace, flames blazing, garland and a Christmas tree festively decked with ornaments and lights. And again the declaration that the time had come to put away Christmas, this one adding that the time had provided a bright spot in an otherwise bleak period in our lives.

Sad moment.

Nevertheless, it is time.

Another Christmas Season has become history and now it is time to enter in earnest into the New Year.

For Catholics we are entering a brief period know to us as Ordinary Time. We will get a hefty dose of this Ordinary Time through summer and autumn. This period which we have now is just a sampling, spanning only five and a half weeks.

For most Christians this period is known at the Time after Epiphany.

All basically the same animal.

The days have begun to grow noticeably longer and we may even be noting the days until that shadowy figure of Punxsutawney Phil puts in his annual appearance.

Somewhere along the way there will still be a Super Bowl although this year with empty seats and also, as is annually predictable, absent the Detroit Lions.

And as mid-January arrives, we are reminded that Valentine's Day is right around the corner and St. Patrick's Day follows closely on its heals.

And I just know that most any day now packages of Peas Egg Coloring and those Peeps will be arriving on store shelves.

It's all part of the predictable of this span of Ordinary Time.

Still, it is time to put away the trappings of Christmas and move into that commonplace of Ordinary Time. It is time to get back into some ordinary and predictable and steady and stable. We have been living through so much uncertainty and unpredictability and even chaos and fear.

The past several months have been anything but ordinary. And looking ahead, for several months yet we will not have too much ordinary.

But then, the question we need to face if we have not as yet might well be: what exactly is "ordinary?" What do we mean by ordinary? What do we expect to find, to experience in this "ordinary?"

Perhaps we respond by suggesting that ordinary means getting back to the way things were before . . . 

But do we really want to go totally back to the way things were before our lives were upended by this pandemic?

Perhaps we need to do a close examination of what has changed over these months for us.

What happens if, when reflecting back over the pandemic months, we look not at what was lost but rather at what may have been gained? What are the blessings we can find in these months?

Seriously? Would you really and honestly say that there were none for you? No blessings at all? No treasures discovered? No awarenesses reawakened? Nothing that you would want to hold onto when times return to "normal?" 

What might the New Normal, the New Ordinary look like for you after what we have been living through these past months?

This Ordinary Time that we enter into now is characterized by the color green. And green is the color of the grass and the leaves and the pines and, well, so many growing things.

And that says volumes about what Ordinary Time should embody - growth.

All of our lifetime is meant to be a time of constant growth and discovery, all of our lifetime. And that includes that Pandemic Time.

What might your New Ordinary look like?

Meantime, 

Keep Praying

 . . . and Stay Safe!