No Ashes!

 As I write this, Lent is at our doorstep. Starts tomorrow. That would be Wednesday, Ash Wednesday. And I am raising the question - can we actually have Lent without Ashes?

For so many Ash Wednesday has become almost a religious holy day. You just have to get to church nd get those ashes. There is, actually, no such regulation and/or stated obligation but still this thinking is embedded in the minds and hearts of many of the faithful (and even some of the less than faithful.)

And because for so many Lent is so much about those ashes and that smudge mark on the forehead, I raise the question out loud and in print.

Can we actually have Lent without Ashes?

And, no, I am not somehow suggestion that we rid ourselves of those Ashes or of Ash Wednesday. Those Ashes can serve a very important purpose. My question is more about Lent itself.

And this year for me the matter is of real consideration because, come Ash Wednesday, I will not be receiving ashes on my forehead.

A couple of days ago I tested positive for Covid. I have begun my Paxlovid treatment. However, it will be a couple days more before another test, this time hopefully negative. In this present situation, I dare not present myself in any sort of public gathering, potentially exposing others to this virus.

No ashes for me on Ash Wednesday this year!

And no big deal either!

Knowing a bit about this wondrous Church of ours and its numerous "faces," I am aware that some of our branches have already begun Lent. They started on Monday last. Obviously, they do not have an Ash Wednesday. Others will begin Lent this coming Sunday, and, again, that Ash Wednesday thing is not on their calendar.

Lent is not about Ash Wednesday.

Ash Wednesday is meant to be a good reminder of why we should take this sacred time seriously but it is definitely possible to have Lent, even a very good Lent, without those Ashes on the forehead.

Forty Days!

Whether counting from the Monday that just passed or the day just ahead or the next in our list of Sundays is all about God's Time and not ours. We are dealing with a Biblical number not a mathematical one.

It is about hearing God's call to us - a call to examine honestly, the seek to do better and commit to take more seriously. God is calling us to give to God the time that God needs for the Holy Spirit to enable us to be more fully, more richly who God has created us to be. God is eager to send/pour forth that Spirit to shake us to our very core!

So it's hearing God to say, "Hey, you and I have got some serious work to do! Let's get busy!"

And Lent is about us replying, "OK, let's go!"

If you need Ashes to call you to that moment, go for it.

And if you do not, go for it still.

The time has come to embrace the call to make of ourselves more beautiful people so that we can be a more beautiful Church so that we can build a more beautiful society so that we can all live in a more beautiful world!

Happy Lent!

Thank you for your service!

 I grew up when (and I know that I am dating myself here, but that is no big deal!) words and phrases like, "Can I help you?" and "Please" and "Thank you" were rather commonplace. A shopping experience, for example, would often be interspersed with such phrases.

Out on the street a "Good Morning" or "Good Evening" or even a folksy "Howdy Neighbor" broke any silence.

Then, somehow, somewhere something began to change.

I cannot document its beginnings but, apparently, someone got the idea to get a bit more personable. And so a greeting was given.

"Have a nice day!"

And, behold! that greeting seemed to catch on like wildfire and it spread everywhere and under almost all circumstances.

Checkout clerks were inviting us to have that nice day and bank clerks were joining the chorus and, I suspect, even a pastor or two sent religious congregations out after a service inviting them to "Have a nice day!"

In fact I think that one of the few places where we were not told to "Have that nice day" was the funeral home.

Without much real thought, speaking out of force of habit, well wishers have invited us to that "Nice Day" even at eight in the evening.

It has become a greeting without much real significance or meaning.

And more recently a still newer phrase, limited in usage to be sure, has emerged.

"Thank you for your service."

With our growing fascination for the military and law inforcercers and public servants in general, there has now emerged that phrase of gratitude. We learn that the person alongside us served in Iraq, "Thank you for your service." A firefighter? Thank you . . .  Works the emergency room? Thank you . . .

The gratitude phrase is becoming commonplace and almost expected. Why, even Pat Sajak now says it on Wheel of Fortune when discovering a public servant.

And while the phrase is becoming commonplace and even in danger of becoming trite, I was caught by surprise recently. I was at a funeral. The Mass was soon to start and I was traversing from paying respects at the bier to my place for the coming time of prayer. I was clearly and evidently clergy. Had all the right attire for it. I could also be discerned as having a rather sufficient number of years behind me. The accumulation of years is evident.

And as I walked innocently from point A toward point B, one of the other participants in the event noticed me, stopped and surprised me with that greeting. "Thank you for your service, Father!"

It was a first and it was a surprise and, not ashamed to say it, it was a welcome blessing.

But then came the real surprise.

I don't know where this came from, probably one of those Holy Spirit moments, but, honestly, without giving thought or preparation to it, I responded. And I am very certain that my response surprised my greeter. I do know that it did surprise me.

"And thank you for being Church!" I responded.

Surprising! Certainly!

But true? Hopefully.

Is not that exactly what Christians, Disciples of Jesus, are to be all about? Should that not be the gratitude that each of us merits? Deserves?

Granted, there will be many in our world, in our time who will not be terribly grateful to be in the presence of those making the sincere effort to live as disciples of Jesus. There will be those who criticize, who tell us that we should keep our religious stuff to ourselves.

Thing is, though, that Jesus did come to reclaim this world and all of its flawed and failed social structures. He came to reclaim this world in the Name of its Rightful Owner. He came to establish the Kingdom of God and that will often go against the values that so many wish to live by.

Meekness? Mercy? Builders of peace? Foot-washers? Servants? Sisters and brothers? Walking the extra mile and turning the other cheek?

What sort of world would that be?

Well, perhaps it is time to try and find out.

Perhaps it is time to do the sort of things that just might cause someone to declare to us, "Thank you for being Church!" Perhaps it is time to take Jesus seriously in His teachings and not try and diminish their potency.

Another Lent is here.

Forget the candy and stuff like that, the stuff of our childhood.

How about giving up the things that are not "Of Church"?

And how about getting busy doing the things that enable us to be called "Church"?

How about a Forty Days that move in the direction of inviting someone, maybe THAT Someone to say to us, "Thank you for being Church."

On the Road . . . Again!

 I do believe that it is time for another Road Trip Saga.

And, what?

You thought that I had told all of my Sad Sojourner's  Sagas???

Trust me.

Back in the day, if you decided to travel with me on one of those trips, you were signing up for some sort of adventure. Maybe it would be missed or cancelled flights. Perhaps it was a training ride turned express and headed way farther than expected or hoped for.  Who could tell?

But the stories and sagas have not yet all been told.

And here comes still another.

This one involves a trip that only signed on a small number of travelers, perhaps not even numbering a dozen. While small, it was still a go. There one onlyall (but significant) adjustment.

Instead of one of those sizable travel tour busses, we would be shuttled around in a mini-bus, more like an oversized van to be exact. It was the right size for our group size.

And to further accommodate, our driver would also serve as our tour guide.

The trip itself promised to cover a decent amount of territory. We began in Rome, headed from there into Austria and then on to Germany, back down and around and into Switzerland and from there into France. There may have been some additional destinations but those are lost to time and a faded memory.

What is vivid in memory is that tour guide/bus driver.

Friendly, personable, eager to assist.

And slightly absent-minded.

We were on our way out of Rome, headed to Austria, about an hour and a half or a bit more away from Rome when he gave us the information.

"Seems that I forgot my maps!" he let us know.

No problem, he assured.

"I know where we are going."

Or so he said.

Austria was no problem. Getting to Innsburck and our hotel, likewise, no problem. The days there, no problem.

And then we headed to Germany.

We entered Munich.

And drove and drove and continued to drive.

Our driver was totally lost. He had no clue as to the location of our hotel. Somehow he thought that if he drove around enough, circled enough streets, sooner or later he would spot the hotel.

He was so wrong!

Finally, he hailed a cab and with the cab leading the way, we found our way to the hotel.

But on our way there we had likely had the grand tour of the city!

The missing maps came into play once again as we left Germany and headed to the Swiss border.

We came to the border crossing and went through all of the proper diplomatic stuff, show the passports, have faces checked against photo, etc. and finally we were admitted and free to go.

On the road we headed to our evening's destination.

Or so we thought.

I felt as if I was the only one noticing it but I could see the sun growing lower in the sky, setting behind us.

We were headed due east.

Only our destination and Switzerland was due west from that border crossing!

Back and forth went the conversation between me and our driver/tour guide.

We are going in the wrong direction!

No! I know where we are going!

But we are headed east!

No! We crossed the border, remember?

But check out the sun! It's behind us!

And eventually it came to pass.

The driver stopped, pulled over into a gas station and actually went to get directions.

And sure enough!

The border we had crossed a couple of hours earlier was between Germany and Austria.

We were in Austria (again) and Switzerland was now a couple of hours away in the opposite direction.

Needless to say, we checked in to our hotel rather late that day and dinner was also rather late.

Anyhow, you get the idea of this trip's little series of adventures. There were others. What I have narrated gives you the idea, the flavor.

One final memory - departure.

We got to the airport in ample time for proper departure. Somehow, we did not get lost on that segment of the journey.

And having arrived at the airport, our driver/tour guide began to unload the luggage from the carriers beneath the van. He bent down to draw out some of the luggage and right then it happened.

Riiiiip!

A nice, also rather sizable rip right down the backside of his trousers.

Mapless, clueless and now with trousers well torn, our tour guide/drive bid us adieu!

(I think he got back home eventually!)

That Christmas Phone Call

 It has been a number of years now but this is one Christmas Eve item that stays with me. It is a memory from a Christmas when I was still full-time active (as opposed to pleasantly retired.) I will not mention the parish or even the year in which this took place (as if I could accurately remember the exact year anyhow!)

This is, however, a true story and an honest memory. 

And it seems this memory has had its impact on me, giving me a lesson or two each year since.

As mentioned above, this took place on a Christmas Eve.

It was at one of those overly crowded, standing room only Christmas Eve (well before Midnight) Masses.

As I recall it, most of that evening and that particular Mass went rather as  expected, rather unremarkable. The traditional readings were proclaimed, the traditional Christmas hymns were sung. The sanctuary was decked properly for the season and the Feast.

Nothing unusual.

Until . . .

The time came for the distribution of Communion.

The faithful came in traditional procession from their places to the front, to the very steps of the sanctuary to bow their heads, hear those words, "The Body of Christ," to speak their "Amen" and welcome Emmanuel anew.

Located in a pew, right there in front, very immediate and proximate to the unfolding procession, was a young lady dressed in her holiday finery. 

And suddenly she became the center of attention.

Her phone began to ring!

Not a soft and gentle sort of ring but a serious, demanding, attention grabbing ring!

That phone rang!

It cried out: Pay attention to me!

You forgot (or maybe failed) to shut me off about an hour ago and now I want you to pay attention to me. I will not be ignored!

That phone rang!

And rang still again.

And then she answered it.

Just as audibly as that phone demanded attention moments before, now this young lady's voice was demanding attention.

She did not just softly whisper into the phone, offering some words of assurance that the call would be returned a bit later.

No!

With a voice that could be heard by all around, obviously including me, she responded to the caller on the other end of that phone connection.

"I'm busy now!" She offered. "I'm still in church. They are almost finished, I think, but it's Christmas and they've been doing some special stuff."

All nearby eyes were now upon her.

All who were about to welcome Emmanuel anew, all who had just made that welcome, the ministers providing that welcome Occasion - all eyes were upon her.

And she simply put the phone away, sat back and waited for us to finish doing our "special stuff because it was Christmas!"

Thought of this episode once again this Christmas Eve.

And smiled!

And hoped and prayed that all of those who may be waiting for us to "Finish doing our Special Stuff" will just be kept waiting.

Because we who know and welcome Emmanuel, who truly know Him, are just not going to quit!

Are we?

Celebrating Christmas?

 And, yes, that is a question.

Are you celebrating Christmas? 

For those who are professing to truly, honestly claim that they are celebrating Christmas, I have an even deeper question.

Christmas, in its fully Christian sense, is about celebrating an event that took place some two thousand years ago. It happened, according to certain traditions, in a Middle Eastern village called Bethlehem. Supposedly, it took place during the courase of a Roman government census, an item that presents some difficulty authenticating.

A birth took place in this village of Bethlehem, a most remarkable birth.

Very traditional Christians call it an Incarnation - in the flesh or, perhaps a bit better, into the flesh. The belief is that God chose to become incarnate, enfleshed. God became one of us, one like us, one with us, enfleshed.

God entered into our history in a most remarkable way.

Christmas calls believers to remember and rejoice in the entry of God into our history in a way we could never really imagine.

And this year we have the shortest possible celebration of Christmas. The actual day falls on a Sunday, which makes New Year's Day a Sunday and that results, at least for American Catholics, in the Feast of the Epiphany also being observed on a Sunday, January 8, 2023. And when that happens, we observe the Baptism of the Lord on the day immediately following Epiphany, January 9, 2023.

And that's it!

Christmas is over.

All grown up! Baptized in the Jordan.

Thing is, do we really want Him to grow up?

Do we want this Child to become adult?

Or putting it another way, do we really, honestly want to welcome Him into our history, our lives, our journeys

Do we really want to celebrate Christmas?

No question that we are ready and eager to celebrate the birth of that remarkable Child.

But what happens to that welcome when He grows up?

And He does grow up, has grown up.

Are we ready to hear Him teaching us that we will be known as His disciples by the love we have for one another? Even when that "other" may be a vagrant, homeless nameless one out there on the street or a shivering migrant, huddled and hoping at our country's border?

Are we ready to take Him dead seriously when He tells us to turn the other cheek or find blessedness in being merciful?

As we look at all the prettily packaged stuff under the Tree, how do we hear His words about our Father knowing what we truly need?

Are we ready to hear the words He just may speak about what we are doing to His creation? The air He give us? or the water? or those wonders that populate land, sea and air, wonders so many of which may face extinction unless we care and act?

And possibly, just possibly He may have something to say about the billions we are willing to spend on weaponry while claiming "In God we trust!" Can we hear that teaching about being peacemakers?

He might peak into our classrooms and notice the lack of prayer, but likely He would not be surprised because He just might be hard pressed to find prayer in our homes and families these days. 

He  might have a comment or two about those empty spaces in our church pews these days.

And that may cause Him to ask a question or two about how welcoming we are and open-minded to those whom we deem "different" - because or color or culture or . . .

Christmas, true Christmas, is about an incredible intrusion into our history of God-Made-Human.

And celebrating Christmas is about declaring our eagerness to welcome the One who was born on that day so long ago.

But a true celebration of Christmas is about a welcome that does not stop. It continues long after January 9. It continues each and every day of our lives Not every day provides a full or fitting welcome. But every day is a sincere effort.

Celebrating Christmas is about welcoming the Child of Bethlehem and welcoming the Lad of Nazareth and welcoming the Teacher of Jerusalem.

And welcoming, every day, the Lord of our Life!

Ready to celebrate Christmas?

Well, then, Merry Christmas!

Facing "That Question"

 As I write this, we are moving into the Third Week of Advent. At least those of us who are not yet ready to toss the Christas Tree and silence the seasonal muzak - we are moving into the Third Week of Advent.

And this year as we do so, the Gospel that is proclaimed will set out a question. (To check out that Gospel, Matthew 11:2 - 11)

The question comes from John the Baptist who is, at the time, sitting in a prison cell due to his words of criticism surrounding the circumstances of King Herod's "marriage."

John has dedicated his life to what he believed was his calling and purpose from God. He proclaimed that the folks of his time needed to get ready. They needed to take seriously, very seriously, the messages of those ancient prophets. Prepare the Way of the Lord.

John stood on the shores of the River Jordan declaring that the time was short for that preparation. The Day of the Messiah was near at hand.

Then he ended up in that prison cell.

And his cousin, Jesus, from Nazareth, was emerging strongly on the scene and word was that in this Jesus could be found the fulfillment of those ancient prophetic words and those more recent declarations of John himself.

Jesus might well be the long awaited One, the Promised One, the Messiah.

But John was sitting there in that prison cell and wondering.

And so he dared to ask his question.

Confined to that cell, he could not ask it personally and so he sent his disciples, messengers. They would, in John's name and in their own, ask the question.

"Are you the one who is to come or shall we wait for another?"

I am thinking about that question in the present, right now, in this twenty-first century.

And I am hearing many, so very, very many asking that question today - of Jesus, as did John, but now also of us, every one of us who would call ourselves disciples, followers of this Jesus of Nazareth.

"Are you the one? Or shall we keep on waiting?"

In that Gospel when the question is set before Him, Jesus answers by pointing to His works, to the things He is doing. He points to the brokenness that He is healing, to the ignorant being enlightened by His teachings and His words, to the unwanted, the marginalized being welcomed and embraced, to those who in various ways seem dead and are, by Him, being overwhelmed by the wonder of life.

He points to His works as testimony to answering that question.

But today, twenty one centuries later we, His disciples, are the ones charged with giving the questioners the answer to that question. Make no mistake about it. They are asking. They are wondering. "Why should we believe in Him? Take Him seriously? Why?"

And the answer is not to be found in the beautiful buildings we have crafted. Not to be found in the majestic music we have composed. Not to be found the the smells and bells of some High Church Worship ritual.

The answer today must be the same and the one He gave so many years ago.

Look at our works.

Look at what we are doing.

Do you see us lifting up the downtrodden? Giving worth to the marginalized? bestowing health - physical, yes, but also mental, psychological, spiritual? Do you see the care we have for children? Their parents? Those at our country's borders? Those kids who have to engage in active shooter drills in their classrooms? The air that we breath? The water that we drink? Do you see how generously we are willing to share the rich resources with which we are blessed?

What do they see when they ask That Question and then look at us?

Can they catch a glimpse of Him?

Can they get a feeling for why they just might consider paying closer attention to Him?

"Are you He who is to come or should we wait for still another?"

Are we, His followers, giving solid reasons to celebrate Christmas? Or just encouraging a Happy Holiday time?

The question set before us this weekend brings to my mind an astute observation made by that great author and thinker, G.K. Chesterton. 

Chesterton observed: "Christianity has not been tried and found wanting. It has been found difficult and left untried."

What might happen if, somehow, this Christmas followers of Jesus Christ really committed to show by our actions that He truly is the long awaited One!

Reelect . . .

 I remember Andrew C. Baird.

Make that Sheriff Andrew C. Baird!

Andy Baiard was the Sheriff of Wayne County back in the 1940's and on into the 1950's and he even made it briefly into the 1960's. That was quite an accomplishment back then and it would be an even more remarkable accomplishment in our time.

Back then this executive office was for a two year term.

That meant that every other year was election year and Andy Baird had to run, once again, for office.

And to folks like me and my siblings this was a critical matter, especially in those earliest of years. Our Dad worked for Andy Baird. Dad was, at first, turnkey at the Wayne County Jail and eventually lieutenant. Every day, five days a week for one of the three work shifts, Dad literally ran the county jail.

And in those earliest days, this was a position dependent on the person of the sheriff. If the sheriff got reelected, Dad keep his job. A defeat for the sheriff meant that a whole new staff, (friends and family?) would be brought in by the new officeholder.

For us every other year being election year also meant that we had to get out there and drum up support for Andy. Either he wins and we put food on the table or he looses and we . . . well! Perish the thought.

In these years our campaigns consisted mostly of those red, white and blue tee shirts we wore to all sorts of events, shirts that simply proclaimed "Reelect Andrew C. Baird, Sheriff."

There were signs and posters as well, all with that same message, "Reelect Andrew C. Baird, Sheriff." Those posters also would include a photo of this strong, stately, steely photo of Andrew C.Baird, our virile, vibrant sheriff.

Thing is, in that time I got to know and personally meet on several occasions that sheriff, Andrew C. Baird. 

And we are talking a whole lot of years here, years in office, years when that steely image on the photo never altered.

But the real Andrew C. Baird grow old, and frail and increasingly fragile.

But the campaign images could never show him that way or there might be questions about his ability to truly fulfill the duties of that office. The jobs got done and done quite well because a strong staff stayed on duty and continued through so many years.

And no one seemed inclined to get ugly about a man growing older. There was a job to get done and this man had assembled the right collection of aides to get that job done and done rather well, I might add.

And I am remembering that time in our history as I reflect on today's elective process.

I watch and listen to the ads and all I can see is for the most part ugly, very, very ugly.

And hateful!

And anger inciting!

This candidate is just plain crazy and this one is a drunk and this is only concerned with stuffing her purse or his pocketbook.

And so vote for . . .

Only I am hearing all too very little about the issues that face us and  what sort of possibilities and solutions might be offered to us and how we might grow as a society by choosing this candidate over that.

Instead of campaigns being about what the job entails, what the challenges are and what solutions we might embrace or reject, we are getting a message that seems to say, "Hate my opponent enough to vote for me!"

How does that help us to be a civil society?

Why should we have to think that we have to vote from our points of anger?

Wy can't we vote, instead, for clearly presented possibilities and solutions?

I guess that I am saying that I long for the days when elections consisted of "Vote for . . ." or "Reelect . . " 

And an invitation to look squarely at the jobs needing to be done and the persons best equipped to get them done.

Why can we not have, once again, candidates who talk about how they see the job they seek and what they see as challenges and possibilities and what solutions they can offer to us?

Why can we not once again be given the possibility of voting based on what needs to get done rather than who needs to be hated?