And just like that . . .

BOOM! And just like that it is summer and BOOM again and just like that the days that have been growing "longer" and now beginning to shrink and BOOM still again and it is the Fourth of July and suddenly Labor Day and then another BOOM! and just like that there is a nip in the air and football is on the scene and those really are pumpkins outside of that Kroger store.
And BOOM! and BOOM! and BOOM! again!
How quickly the days slide right on by.
Just seconds ago, or so it seems, those leaves were beginning to appear on the trees and buds were forming. And just like that, BOOM! fully leafed, buds to blossoms and now all gone. And it is summer. What happened to Springtime? and April? and that whole, seven weeks long Easter Season?
It seems impossible now to even remember those days back so many eons ago when the time between Thanksgiving and Christmas seemed like an eternity, a stretch that would just never end. That's the way it seemed when we were young.
How is it that as we get older, the days seem to move more quickly?
Oh, those who know will tell us that it all has to do with how many days we have ahead in life and how many are now already spent. Somehow that is what creates the illusion, and it is an illusion because every day has the same number of seconds, minutes and hours, that time is moving more quickly.
Back in college at Orchard Lake St. Mary's where, again back then, we studied Polish, we learned a traditional Polish song, Jak szybko mijają chwile. Translation: How Quickly the Time Does Pass.
Traditionally, this is sung at celebrations, especially birthdays and anniversaries.
But back in those college days, who would have truly grasped the full truthfulness of this.
As I feel the days so swiftly whizzing by I wonder: How do we ever convince the young of how precious each moment, each day truly is?
They won't believe it.
They have all the time in the world. Or so they think.
And then BOOM!
All I can do, all you can do, all any of us who now understand can really do is to embrace each moment, welcome every opportunity and treat as precious and sacred the time we now have.
I did a Google to capture the words of that old Polish song so that I could share a translation with you. What I found was not just the words of the song but some comments that followed. A couple that really caught my attention and also told me that I am not alone in feeling that BOOM! I share with you:

One commented on how: "As the years go by the words to this song bear more and more meaning for me. Sadly, also, there are less and less people to sing it with and slowly its message is coming true."

Another said this: "This song is so beautiful but sad. I remember the day that my Aunt Helen could no longer sing it because of all the sad memories. Such is life."

The memories really do not have to be sad. The sadness comes from the richness and beauty of memories passed, times that have passed. We can and should create wondrous memories to someday be cherished before the next BOOM! comes.


Here is the translation of that song:

How swiftly moments are passing, how swiftly time goes by.

A year, a day, a moment from now, we’ll not be here you or I,

A year, a day, a moment from now, we’ll not be here you or I,

So while we still are youthful and spring is drawing near,

At least for this brief moment may our eyes shed no tear,

At least for this brief moment may our eyes shed no tear.

And here is the song:

Jak szybko mijają chwile

Pentecost People

That's my dad on the afternoon of Pentecost Sunday at St. Margaret of Scotland Church. I cannot give the exact year other than to suggest 1993 as most likely. I was still rather fresh, brand new at the parish in 1992, so I am going to rule those years out. As to 1995, well, that was the year Dad passed away and that journey of his began right around Pentecost Sunday that year. Actually, the year doesn't matter.
What matters is that it is clearly Pentecost Sunday. I can tell by the array of red geraniums around the baptismal font.
From my recollection  it was back then that we introduced this idea. Bring a red geranium plant on Pentecost Sunday and after Mass they will be planted around the grounds of the parish. Nowadays many churches have adopted this idea and on Pentecost Sunday you can see numerous folk headed to church bearing their geranium plants. Then as summer progresses, drive around your neighborhood and check out the local church grounds and you may see red geraniums flowering in abundance.
Red geraniums, wearing red on Pentecost Sunday are sorts of little things to remind us of a big thing!
Those with all that red are by that very color proclaiming that, "We are a Pentecost People!"
Those red geraniums flowering on the grounds of so many churches are likewise proclaiming, "Here is the gathering place of a Pentecost People."
"You can find Pentecost People here!"
Or you should!
I am afraid that many, far too many who should see themselves as Pentecost People really do not.
Pentecost People are those who are filled by the Holy Spirit, moved by the Holy Spirit, and led into action by the Holy Spirit.
And wearing red while sitting back is awfully easy and very comfortable.
But look at the story of that first Pentecost.
The Spirit came and those filled with the Spirit went out into the streets, no, make that rushed out into the streets making something happen, beginning to transform the world in which they lived.
The Spirit will cause us to disturb the status quo.
And therefore that's a Pentecost People - those who do not just sit around waiting for something but those who actually make something happen!
My dad was a Pentecost Person.
Deeply involved in his parish even before Vatican II. I can remember many an early Saturday morning when he would get me into the car and we would drive down to Eastern Market to beg fresh produce for the Sisters who staffed our school. Just one little thing to make something better.
He was also an usher. He was involved in number of church organizations. He was definitely not one to sit back, waiting for something to happen.
In his later years, and I am talking here about his 70's and 80's, he was lector, Eucharistic Minister, regularly spending time visiting the homebound on his way home from church. He became a Stephen Minister, a trained bereavement minister, a Third Order Franciscan. A take your breath away kind of person.
That's a Pentecost Person!
Mom was right there along with Dad.
Matter of fact, I was surrounded by family who knew the importance of being Pentecost People. In one way or other, not always dramatically, they were involved and doing.
In a previous blog I mentioned my Uncle Bill and Aunt Agnes, both active in promoting the message of Divine Mercy. That was just one way in which they let the Spirit move them.
I think of two other of my aunts - Pauline and Catherine.
Some might consider what they did not very "churchy." But living under the guidance and power of the Spirit empowered then to do what they did.
Both were widowed early in life. Both were left with young children. In those days there simply were no mega-life insurance policies. So, while working to raise their children properly, they went back to jobs and work, putting in full days on the job and coming home to clean house, fix dinner and do laundry. And add to that helping with homework, taking time to pray with their children and providing dedicated "Mom" time. Unrelentingly they devoted themselves to doing the best job possible in caring for those children whom God had gifted to them.
As I think back on the parishes in which I have served over some 55 years, I can recall many, so very many Pentecost People. They were the ones who brought life not just to their parishes but to their families, to their jobs, to their neighborhoods.
They made a difference.
Being Church was not just saying some prayers, fitting in time for Mass on Sunday and adhering to some certain code of conduct. Not for those truly Spirit filled people.
It was about being Pentecost People.
That is who God wants us to be.
And just try and imagine what this world would be like if those who should be Pentecost People really tried to be.
So go ahead and wear red on Pentecost, carry a red geranium to church as well.
But more critical is how you answer the question, "Am I truly a Pentecost Person?"

May the Spirit shake your world!

Treats!

Take a good look at that package!

Dog Treats - those words stand out loudly and clearly.

But look again, above and below and you will see that these treats are produced by Omaha Steaks. I suspect most of you are at least somewhat familiar with Omaha Steaks. They are the ones who deal in seriously premium cuts of meat and related edibles.

These treats are all natural and contain premium contents.

Shall we say that these treats are the Cadillac of dog treats? Or BMW? or Mercedes? 

Something like that, right?

Anyhow, some months ago I place an order for some items for my freezer from Omaha Steaks. When the items were totaled up, I still needed some small purchase to qualify for free shipping. Paying for shipping was more expensive. Solution? Buy something else and rather than spend on the shipping, get something more for yourself.

The only problem with that was that I did not need more. What I had already ordered would qualify for filling my freezer. However, that is when I noticed the premium dog treats. Having a dog, I decided this was the answer. 

Dog gets treats and I get free shipping.

When the shipment arrived, I tucked those treats away for "A Special Occasion." Dog had plenty of other treats to work on.

And then came the last few weeks.

I began to realize that these just may be the last days for Dusty.

And he had all those premium treats.

Waiting for "A Special Occasion."

If he doesn't get them now, he may never get them!

Well, in the time he had left, he got a few but plenty got left behind.

"A Special Occasion."

How many of us do that?

I know that I do.

I can look on that shelf and see those special and expensive bottles of scotch that have been given me over the years.

There they are, waiting for "A Special Occasion."

When Dad passed away, he left behind some boxes of shirts, still unused, still waiting for "A Special Occasion."

Some years back I was laid up after surgery and a priest was assigned to temporarily serve the parish. One evening he asked if I would enjoy a glass of wine. I accepted. He poured a fine wine. In fact I thought I recognized it. So I asked and he gave me the name of the wine. He had opened the bottle of wine I had bought some time back and was saving for Easter Dinner! 

With an assortment to choose from, he had chosen the one premium bottle!

So much for that "Special Occasion."

Those left behind premium dog treats are now serving as a challenge to me.

Can I start to see every day as "A Special Occasion?"

I have waited through retirement, turning 70, reaching my 50th Anniversary and turning 80. Somehow, up until now that "Special Occasion" has not arrived.

Those unenjoyed premium dog treats now remind me to realize that, if I wait long enough, that "Special Occasion" will be my funeral!

And that will be someone else' s "Special Occasion."

It's time to believe that, because my heart is beating, I am breathing, the sun is shining, there are so many good people in my life today, this is "A Special Occasion."

Now is the time to recognize the blessings of the Present Moment and celebrate.

Remembering Dusty

February 24, 2009 - May 29, 2019

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

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

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

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

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

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together....

Author unknown...

Until . . .

Memorial Day

The American Revolutionary War

4,435 Casualties

The War of 1812

2,260 Casualties

World War I

116,516 Casualties

World War II

405,399 Casualties

Korean War

36,574 Casualties

Vietnam War

56,220 Casualties

Desert ShieldDesert Storm

383 Casualties

Enduring Freedom/Iraqi Freedom

6,775 Casualties

Memorial Day!

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

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

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

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

So that we might have freedom, true freedom.

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

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

True freedom comes from God.

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

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

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

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

We give thanks.

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

                      And let perpetual light shine upon them.

Memorial Day!

How Do We Solve the Problem . . .

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

A Painting and A Purpose (Epilogue)

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

A Golfer's Nightmares:

RIP

WILLIAM C. KUSIAK

August 25, 2003

Age 87