He Will Not Leave Me Alone

Yesterday I attended the funeral of a woman I hardly knew.  Patricia was the grandmother of Mike, the chairman of the organization I support which helps developmentally disabled adults.  Pat’s husband, a judge, had helped start the organization over 50 years ago.  Last month Mike and I were having a casual meeting in a local restaurant when Pat came in, surrounded by others of her family, and I was introduced to her.  We only spoke a moment, because it seemed as if everyone else there wanted to come forward and greet her warmly.  I had no idea.

Her funeral was much more well-attended than most.  Her large family of children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren were there, but so were a number of priests and sisters and, surprisingly, a number of people I knew --- even my cleaning lady!!  I had no idea all these people knew Pat, and probably much better than me.

But, --- maybe not.

One of the many tributes voiced about Pat at her funeral mass was that she volunteered for almost 20 years at St. Christine’s soup kitchen.  I know of St. Christine’s.  I recalled it was about 20 years ago when the organization I chaired, Paint The Town, painted and repaired that rundown elementary school.  But it was in the adoration chapel late last night that I recalled how that all came about.

In the quiet, as I prayed the rosary, I recalled that there was a debate over committing to renovate St. Christine’s school.  We had already committed to painting and repairing hundreds of homes in the metro area that year and many thousands of volunteers were enthusiastically planning their work.  Adding St. Christine’s to our commitments would require a large amount of paint, supplies, --- and people.  Before making that decision, I personally toured the school --- which some said (privately to me) would be closed soon.  Then someone else provided new information:  “And they run a soup kitchen at the school, too.”  And I recalled thinking that even if the school did close likely the soup kitchen would continue.  And so it did.  That was the turning point in my mind, as I recalled it these many years later, and many enthusiastic volunteers came forth and did great work on St. Christine’s school.

As I prayed last night I came to the Fourth Joyful Mystery of the Rosary, the Presentation of the Baby Jesus in the Temple, and I read this mediation I wrote years ago:  “He will not leave me alone.”  Usually when I read those words I think of Jesus coming to His Father in the Temple, and my coming to adore Him even now in the chapel.  We are never alone in our trials; God is with us.  Those thoughts usually give me great comfort.  But last night, however, a new thought came to me.  Years ago I thought I was the ultimate decider about St. Christine’s fate, and I recalled worrying about that decision, and whether my commitment would be supported by others.  How little faith I had then: “He will not leave me alone.” 

I didn’t know it, (surprisingly God doesn’t confer with me in everything), but God and Pat were talking about a commitment to St. Christine’s at the same time.  And He didn’t leave either of us alone.

In recent years my local United Way has crept beyond our community boundaries, to help those in need in neighboring communities.  And as CFO I sign grant checks each year, to support the work of St. Christine’s soup kitchen.  Pat has gone home to her great reward, but I and others will help carry on her work, as she did mine.

He will not leave us alone.

When I made that decision about St. Christine’s I’m sure I felt alone, and I’m sure I did spend time asking God if this was His will.  I think all of us who seek to make a difference with our life pray that prayer.  We think our decisions are about things involving us.  “What should I do?” we pray.  Last night I was reminded that we are not alone in this world.  If we seek to do God’s will, He will bless our efforts --- in His way.  Even with people we do not know.

Often when I come to the chapel my prayer is: “Lord, what can I do for You?”  Last night He showed me what He can do for me.

Trust in Him and go forth, to make a difference with your life.  It may be your decision, but you won’t be alone.

Greater Love Than This?

An elderly friend who attends our Caregiver’s Support Group called me yesterday.  “My children have kidnapped my husband,” she said.  Then she went on to explain how they viewed that his worsening dementia required specialized care beyond that which she could give her beloved spouse. 

She was sad.

I offered my condolences to her and voiced confidence that her children loved their parents, and were undoubtedly acting out of that love.  She acknowledged that fact, but said she planned to talk to some Eldercare lawyers this week --- but to me she seemed somewhat in doubt about this course of action.  No great ideas came to me on the matter (wisdom is often not one of my strengths), and so I offered to her that we both should be praying for wisdom on how to proceed, and she agreed.

It was in the chapel early this morning, however, that perhaps our prayers were answered.

I recently began reading Fr. Robert Spitzer’s latest book:  God So Loved The World.  In it he writes at length about agape love, God’s unconditional love, and what that means for us.  Early in the book he looks at Jesus’ telling of the Parable of the Prodigal Son.  Fr. Spitzer describes how the prodigal son’s leaving of his father and subsequent behaviors were the epitome of Jewish thoughts about sinful actions.  Almost everything the son did was described as sin in their laws.  And the Jews knew what their laws would proscribe in response to sin; like any broken law, it required justice in response.  Knowing this, Fr. Spitzer speculates that the Jews were probably expecting father to respond to his sons return, in justice, something like this:  “If you wanted to live in the land of the Gentiles, and throw away everything I have given to you, then go back to ‘your’ people --- your way of life and your ‘religion.’”    

Take that!

But that isn’t the father’s reaction which Jesus described, much to their surprise.  “When he meets his son, he throws his arms around him and kisses him.  The kiss is not only an act of affection, but also a sign of forgiveness.”  The father shows no anger, for “he has not stopped loving (unconditionally loving) his son for a single second.  It is as if he had done nothing to humiliate nor dishonor his father and family.”  And then the son finally speaks:  “Father, I have sinned” --- the opening words WE say when we partake in the sacrament of Confession.

Saint Paul speaks of this unconditional love of God the Father:  “For I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, not height, not depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God” (Rom 8:37-9).    This love is agape  love, a total self-giving love, that continues despite the failures of the ones we love.  This is the love Jesus says the Father has and we must have.  It is a love that puts mercy above the justice demanded by earthly laws.

Spitzer goes on to speak of suffering and its relationship to love.  Seeing someone we love fail us, sin, perhaps even walk away from us (as the Prodigal Son did) causes us much pain.  God feels that pain acutely when we turn away from Him in sin.  Yet, as Jesus over and over tried to explain, the Father who suffers thus loves us anyway.  And we should accept suffering and love anyway, also.

I have known people who can love through suffering.  Just this morning at mass I watched the mother patiently break off a small piece of the Eucharist host, and place it in her wheelchair-bound son’s mouth, and then take a small drop of the wine and place it on his lips, which he quickly swiped with his tongue and said: “Mmmm.”  And I saw the man who was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer helping people around him --- after being prayed over a couple of years ago the cancer stopped growing but is so invasive in his brain it cannot be removed, and doctors have told him it might start growing again at any time.  These are people who love, despite suffering, knowing that love isn’t about what they get, but what they give to others.

We think that when someone offends us justice demands that they ask our forgiveness, that they get humble and come around to our will.  But Jesus says no, love must be stronger than that.  We are the ones who must humble ourselves, temper our desire for justice and our demands that our will be done.  Fr. Spitzer explains:  “Saints Peter and Paul conclude that suffering is an invaluable preparation for the Kingdom of God (see 2Cor 12:7-10).  For them, suffering is vital to freedom FROM egocentricity, pride, hard-heartedness, and dominion of others, and so it is vital FOR humble-heartedness, gentle-heartedness, compassion, and respect.”  In Jesus’ dying words Psalm 22 speaks of “suffering as self-sacrifice or as an offering of self for others.”  John puts it bluntly:  “Greater love has no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” (Jn 15:13).

So how do these lessons on love relate to my friend whose husband was kidnapped?  How should she treat her kids, vis-à-vis what they did to her?  How should she treat her husband, who was separated from her?  How should WE treat those who behave badly toward us?  Certainly God doesn’t imply we should agree with bad behavior, nor encourage it, but clearly He does ask us to go beyond justice.  There are no simple answers to the above questions about what we should do, but there are God’s words, which give us much to think on, and to pray on.

There is one further point which Fr. Spitzer makes in his book which bears consideration.  The very first chapter of his book is titled: The Supremacy of Love, and in the very first paragraph of that chapter Fr. Spitzer comments on the title’s wording: “Huh?  What does that mean?” ‘Supremacy’ implies power, while ‘love’ implies gentleness or humility.  Those don’t seem to go together.  But then he goes on to explain, noting that real love is an “actualizing what is ultimately positive, ultimately healing, ultimately fulfilling, ultimately transformative, and therefore ultimately victorious.”  What he is saying is that love isn’t about feeling good, it’s about acting good, and that acting good is empowering to us.  If we truly love as God wishes us to, we’d put that love into action.

And sometimes that may even mean “laying down our life.”  

Review: A Friar's Tale

Did you ever wish you could hear a loved one’s voice again?  Did you ever wish you had a recording of them speaking to you?  Oh, I don’t mean a record you or someone else made of

some party or a video of some celebrations with friends, but real one-to-one of someone you held dear speaking to you and you alone.  Did you ever wish you felt your loved one at your side, speaking softly, privately to you again?

When I read this book, I heard Fr. Groeschel speaking to me.  And it felt so very good.

In this book, I loved hearing Fr. Benedict's reflections as he looked back, in his final days and moments, on some of the events and people who mattered in his life, important things, things he would never forget.  Looking back, he was at peace, as he saw God’s helping hand in those important moments.  But there was sometimes also sadness in his voice, as he spoke regretfully about some of the people he wished he could have helped more.  I understand those feelings.  As Fr Groeshel speaks in this book, I can hear in my heart his distinctive accent, and see his smiling face, the twinkle in his eye, as he cracks one of his wry jokes. 

Oh yes, as I read this book, I heard Fr. Benedict’s voice again.

I’m not sure everyone will like this book.  If you want to take advantage of Fr. Groeschel’s outstanding philosophy, wisdom and faith, most any of his other books would serve you well.  But if you knew the man even at a distance, if you knew the man, you will love this book.  It talks to you.  And it is so good to hear his voice again.

Just So You Know ...

There are some things which are so important in life that we need to jot them down, so we don’t ever forget.  With that thought in mind, I note this important fact for myself and in case any of the handful of people who would read this blog should ever visit my home.

I create and give the neighbor children Easter baskets each year.  There is usually some age-appropriate book about Easter, along with the usual pile of various candies and chocolate eggs, all wrapped with a bow.  Oh, and there’s always a few Milkbones for the dogs --- can’t forget them either.  This year I included a large pink bunny in Tyler and Riley’s basket.

There was a knock on the door, and then the doorbell was rung.  As I rushed to see who was there, I thought it had been a delivery man, since I saw no one through the glass as I approached.  But when I opened the door and looked down, there were Tyler and Riley.  They wanted to thank me for the Easter basket and candy.  “I like the marshmallows!”  I asked if the dog liked his bones --- “They’re gone,” they said.  I then asked them to please save a piece of their candies for mom and dad.  “Dad already ate his,” said Tyler. 

And then they had turned to go, when Riley turned back to me and smiling said:  “Just so you know, the bunny’s name is Hop-Hop.”

Just so you know … 

Hope you have a very blessed Easter season.

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Oh, one other thing to note, I guess.  At mass this morning, before the gospel, the entire church proclaimed the praises of Alleluia.  The loud enthusiasm of the crowd echoed throughout the church, and the noise had not yet quieted down when there was heard one further sound of praise.  It was the voice of a small child, which said loudly and clearly:  “Yaaaayyyyyy!”

 Amen.