Handel's Messiah 2025

 Each Christmas I try and attend the Messiah Community sing at St. Olaf's Catholic Church in downtowm Minneapolis. I begin thinking about it in fall, when the first chill is in the air, and thoughts turn to the coming winter and Christmas. 

It's always on a Sunday night downtown. If the weather is bad, or really cold, I think about backing out. That happened this year. It was around 8 or 9F when the concert started. But for the 8th year in a row, excluding the covid cancellations, we went, my wife and I. 

While I am not a singer there is this really good sense of Christmasing that comes over me when the music starts. I let go with my permanently off key rendition of the masterpiece. The crowd is a mix. Many like me, who welcome the large crowd to drown out their mistakes. Others, professional or semi-so, lift high their beautiful voices to proclaim "unto to us a child is born" "speak ye comfortably to Jerusalem" 'they have turn-ed every one to his own way" "He shall reign for ever and ever" "by his stripes we are healed". 

They are dressed in suits, smart Christmas dresses, elf costumes, Santa hats, buffalo plaid shirts and dresses. A gathering of devout followers of the true Messiah and a few, perhaps, non-believers. All drawn by the spell of Christmas into something deeper than elf on the shelf and Christmas cookies. 

Christmas. Christmas. Christmas. 

I am a fan of the New York Jets

As I left mass this morning, I caught that second half of the Jets-Broncos game. It was one of those London games of the 2025 season, with a kickoff just as mass was starting. 

I have been following the Jets since Joe Namath took them to the Super Bowl so many years ago. They have never been my main team. That loyalty has belonged mainly to the Buccaneers, Rams and Vikings, when I lived in the same city as those teams. But for over 50 years, the Jets have been my second team, the team I always wanted to do well, and to someday return to Superbowl glory. 

If you dig around my house, you'll find some Rams stuff and a few Vikings things. but much more Jets. Jets hat, sweatshirt and coffee mug are the things seen most often. In 2023 I went to the NFL Hall of Fame in Canton. First stop, Kurt Warner's bust. Second stop, Joe Namath's bust. Rubbed Joe's nose for good luck like thousands of others. Didn't rub Kurt's nose. 

When my son was 12 his approach to the baseball plate mimicked the stance of Mark McGwire. Mark and my son lived for a while in the same city and were baseball players at the same time, though at different levels. 

When I was 12 and playing quarterback in my front yard with my friends, my stance as I dropped back to pass, mimicked that of Joe Namath. It was intentional, I really tried to hold the ball the way I thought he did, and release it as he did. In reality I was a poor imitation but in my mind I was pretty close. 

With today's result, Jets lost and are now 0-6, the season is likely over. I get to be one of the first fans to start thinking hard about the 2026 draft and what it means for my team. Perhas there is another Namath in next year's class. One who is a true student of the game, who has watched the old film footage from the 60s and marveled at the moves of Broadway Joe. Maybe. 

As I left Mass I did not have the Jets on my mind. But when I turned on the game on the radio, I no longer had the miracle of the Mass on my mind. What does that say about me. Perhaps nothing, just a normal human whose mind moves from one thing to another. Or, am I just a passing fan of both? I hope not. Christ has many fans, but very few fully devoted followers. 

Life on the Eights

 Last week I became 68 years old. Three score and eight. My grandaddy always said "I just want my three score and ten, like it says in the Bible" He got a lot more than that.

Anyway, looking back on the eights, here goes. Roughly as I told it to my kids and their kids after blowing out 68 candles (true). 

When I was eight it was 1964. I lived in Pensacola.  3rd grade. Had a younger brother who was almost six, and a new baby brother. I think my dreams/plans in life were vaguely to 1) be a good Christian 2) Have a good family 3)Not be poor 4)Be somebody. 5) Play for the New York Yankees. Simple difficult goals. 

When I was 18 it was 1974 and I had graduated from HS and moved to St. Petersburg Florida. Sacked groceries at Publix in the Northeast Shopping Center. Started college in early 75. 

From 74-84 I sold Kirby vacuum cleaners door to door. Sold Bibles and kids books door to door. Sacked groceries. Ran a gas station at night. Maintenance crew and dining room crew in college. Landscaping. Day Camp Counselor. Sold Iinsurance. Sold Investments. 

In 1984 I was 28 and one of the toughest periods of my life, thus far, was over. The Dark Years were past. I had written my last hot check. There was a little money in the bank and I owned my first house. Finally found something I could do, which was investment stuff. Started by selling it, later managed it. I was married and my oldest child was four. This was the year I paid off my $2000 student loan, $30 at a time. Doesn't seem like much until you're three months behind and the college is getting ready to turn you over to a collection agency. I was very involved in numerous political campaigns. 

In 1994 I was 38 and lived in St. Louis. My wife Robin and I now have three children. Daughter 14, son 8, daughter 2. A good happy time. My maternal grandparents and my parents were still alive. I had earned a difficult professional designation and had some letters after my name on my business card. Since 1984 a man I knew had been elected President and I had been a delegate to the national convention of our shared political party. Robin and I went to a Christmas party at the White House.  Around this time I stopped my political stuff and focused on family and career. The Soviet Union, that nemesis that had me scurrying under my desk in grammar school, was no more

In 2004 I was 48 and lived in Minneapolis. Career events I did not anticipate sent me north. It was wonderful, eventually. By this time my grandparents and my father had died. My oldest daughter was in Law School. my son was in college and my youngest daughter was in middle school. I was traveling a lot for work and for a professional organization of the investment world. 

In 2014 I was 58 and lived outside Minneapolis, on a lake and thinking about retirement. My son was married and I was a grandfather. My youngest brother had just finished year one of a five year war against cancer. 

In 2024 I am 68. My three children are all happily married. I have 5 grandchildren. I am even more happily married than my children for I have been able to convince a wonderful woman to stay with me for 45 years!!! I have joined the Catholic Church. I am retired. I play the banjo. My youngest brother has died of cancer (One might say the cancer beat him. Welcomed into the glory of his heavenly Father, I doubt he would put it that way.) As I write this I am canning green beans from my garden. 

The Miracle I Saw in Omaha

I saw a basket of wafers and a carafe of wine become the Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of our risen Lord. Jesus Christ. 

Yes, indeed. 

Truly, Truly. 

A basket of wafers and a carafe of wine became, before my eyes, the Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of the Lamb of God. Jesus Christ. 

Sunday morning August 4. 740 am. Holy Cross Catholic Church. Omaha. 

Right at the start

I don't always know right from wrong. Or perhaps better said, I don't always know grey from right or grey from wrong. There are some things I did in my early life, particularly in business, that I had to learn were wrong. I thought they seemed neutral. Some matters that I thought were grey areas I later learned were not. They were not big things, but more technical matters related to my profession. 

There are other human behaviours, that from the time I first heard of them, seemed wrong. They still hold. Almost everthing I thought was wrong when the child me first heard of them, was indeed wrong and twisted. That first impression, that gut sense, stuck with me - even when I was an adult and tried to rationalize them away. When I ponder whether a particular act is morally right or wrong, I find I often revert to a very simple question, "When you first heard of this act, what did you think?"

Before I was old enough to know the difference between political parties and philosophies, my first impressions ruled. That gut reaction. As I look back its remarkable how the instinct of me the child was nearly always the one I still hold, or have returned to, in my later years. I believe that is a grace of God poured out on his youngest children who are raised in homes that believe in Him. This is a personal belief, not necessarily a theological truth. 

The Master - In Augusta and in the Whole World

At the Catholic Churches in Augusta and Pebble Beach and Pinehurt and St. Andrews and around the world., an event like no other is now underway. The Church knows it as the Easter Triduum. 

Books read in 2022

The following are the  books I read in 2022. Most of them are quite good. A few were not worth reading, several are worth reading a second time. Although I do not read much science fiction, I got started on the Foundation series by Isaac Asimov and had to read them all. 

A book that took me almost 50 years to read, The Dreaming Earth. I started it in high schook, got bored with it, lost it some time in the 70s. I thought about it last year and decided to find it online. I did, and am glad to have done so. Nice little sci-fi story. The Best Loved Poems of the American People was a book in my parents home as a child. A wonderful collection. 

I hope to someday read again Marina and Lee, and Churchill's six volume account of WWII. 

The worst book of the bunch was "I lived to tell it all" by George Jones. He was a bad man who treated people terribly and squandered his wealth and talent. He wrote this book to brag about the amount of liquor,  drugs, and human souls he consumed. 

Another loser was "Pre-Colonial Black Africa" by Chiop. Basically a rant that everything good in the world came from P-C B A. World religions, economic structure, democracy, music, art, writing, mathematics, astronomy, skittles, tacos, Buddy Holly, pickup trucks, checkers. The writer makes the case that even the pre-colonial slavery of Africans by Africans was a good kind. 

As a Catholic I am supposed to like Flannerty O'Connor and see how her Catholicism is relected in her writing. If I am a proper intellectual Catholic, this will just ooze out of her brain into mine. Didn't happen. I liked one, one, only one short story. A Good Man is Hard to Find. I asked my wife to read it but she did not. 

The books are listed in the order I read them. 

Foundation - Asimov 
Little Man: Meyer Lansky and the Gangster Life - Lacey
The Second World War - Volume 1: The Gathering Storm - Churchill
Marina and Lee - McMillan
Jesus and the Dead Sea Scrolls: Revealing the Jewish Roots of Christianity - Bergsma
Prelude to Foundation - Asimov

Beyond the Veil: The Adventures of an American Doctor in Saudi Arabia - Gray
The Dreaming Earth - Brunner
Rural Roots of Bluegrass: Songs, Stories and History - Erbsen
The Second World War - Volume II: Their Finest Hour - Churchill
The Second World War - Volume III: The Grand Alliance - Churchill
The Second World War - Volume IV: The Hinge of Fate - Churchill
The Second World War - Volume V: Closing the Ring - Churchill
The Second World War - Volume VI: Triumph and Tragedy - Churchill
The Guardians - Grisham
The President is Missing - Patterson, Clinton
Second Foundation - Asimov
Foundation's Edge - Asimov
The Best Loved Poems of the American People - Felleman
Forward the Foundation - Asimov
Salvation on Sand Mountain - Covington (2nd Reading)
Foundation and Earth - Asimov
The Big Short - Lewis (3rd reading, at least)
The Practice of the Presence of God (3rd reading)- Lawrence
I, Robot - Asimov
The Caves of Steel - Asimov
The Naked Sun - Asimov
Into Your Hands Father: Abandoning Ourselves to the God Who Loves Us - Stinissen
The Robots of Dawn - Asimov
The Complete Stories - Flannery O'Connor
Robots and Empire - Asimov
The Stars, LIke Dust - Asimov
The Currents of Space - Asimov
A Pebble in the Sky - Asimov
The Joke - Kundera
The Saint Monica Club (3rd reading) - Green
The Hope of the Gospel - MacDonald
Basic Music Theory for Banjo Players - McKeon
The Diary of an Old Soul - MacDonald
Fantasy Classics Collection - MacDonald
The Spirit and Forms of Protestantism - Bouyer
Unspoken Sermons: Series I,II and III. MacDonald
Four Witnesses - The Early Church in Her Own Words - Bennett
Introduction to Christianity - Ratzinger
Cash - Cash
I Lived to Tell it All - Jones
Precolonial Black Africa - Diop
The Hidden History of East Tennessee - Guy
Defeating Dictators: Fighting Tyranny in Africa and around the World - Ayittey
Disraeli - Blake
Churchill - Gilbert

Eucharistic Adoration

Before the blessed sacrament. 

The mystery. The blessing. How do we stay away? Why is it that I allow so much time to pass before attending. How much time will pass before I am here again. 

Thoughts on 2020

The overwhelming majority of people will not write one word about this year. The memories will fade and we will all fall into a collective shared fable of what this life was like. Of the writings of my grandparents and great-grandparents, not one reference to the Spanish flu of 1918 has survived. I have no idea what that time was like for them. So this is for posterity, my thoughts on life during the China flu of 2020. 

As I write this it is about one year since the flu virus first arrived in the US. It is about one month since the vaccine was approved by the FDA. It is about ten months since the government started imposing restrictions on public gatherings, masks, etc. 

For the most part, things were not that bad for me. Actually they were quite good. I welcomed two new grandchildren into the world, saw the Cardinals and Twins in Spring training, boated a lot, read many good books, learned a lot about the geography of Africa, prayed much more than in the prior year, saved some money, drove from Victoria Minnesota to Roan Mountain Tennessee, and welcomed a future son-in-law into the family circle, witnessed the entry of my son into the Catholic Church. I went to the dentist twice, the dermatologist once, my eye doctor once and my family doctor once. I got good reports from all of them. For those of us who are retired, and who planned well for retirement, things were pretty darn good.  We finished an addition on to our house. I got all of our old VHS tapes digitized. My children did not lose their jobs and my youngest successfully got a better job and launched her career in physical therapy. I wrapped up most of my responsibilities as trustee and executor of my brother Kevin's estate and trust. 

I think that day to day our lives were not as bad as we pretend them to be. Apart from those who actually got the virus and suffered through all of that, all of my friends had a pretty good year. We had some inconveniences, but in the span of human history they were very very very minor. We did not get to see relatives and friends as often as we would like, but go back in time 150 years and you will find that your great-great grandparents spent much of their lives in relative isolation, working 12-14 hour days. I did not get to be at the hospital when my grandsons were born, which I would have so loved, but turn the clock back a few dozen decades and there would have been no hospital and men would have taken no break from work while the women anguished in childbirth. I had visits from friends cancelled but I had the ability in my home to see them live on a screen like a television. 

There will be lots of whining and second guessing about what the government did or did not do. A few thoughts on that. It is surprising that we have a vaccine as quick as we do. Some credit should go to the current president for clearing the path for companies and scientists to make this happen. He threw a lot of money at the problem. In time we will see that much of it was wasted, but a lot of it was not and that helped get the vaccine out quicker. 

It appears that the president, who is a very combative person, did not do enough to clear a path to distributing the vaccine once it arrived. He was not nice to people who disagreed with him. He left too much to individual states. The government had a full year to figure out how to get this distributed and has not done very well so far, or so it seems. There are stories as I write this about vaccines sitting in cold storage awaiting use. Perhaps that is true, perhaps not. 

The next president will do much better. He believes in the federal government and will take more of a hard line to make people take the vaccine. He will compromise, cajole, bend and twist arms and get this thing taken care of. He will push a federal plan and will stop the silliness of states like Minnesota that have advisory panels to advise the governor on why their favorite disadvantaged group needs the vaccine the most. He will do it in a way that causes us to think collectively, as fellow citizens, about how to solve the problem, and not as individuals entitled to some special treatment. We will like it. 

There were some minor personal impacts. We were made to wear masks in public. I did not like this but went along with it. (The President did not like masks and set the example that people should not wear them. Some people said the mask came to be seen as a political sign. If you wore one it meant that you did not like the president. This is myth, in my view. Most people simply believed the President's opinion was wrong and chose to play it safe and wear a mask. Most of his supporters ended up wearing masks and were somewhat irritated that he chose not to). I spent the night in only three states: Minnesota, Missouri and Tennessee. Normally I would travel to a dozen or so. I stocked up on a few things that I would normally not have around, bullets and whiskey. You never know how crazy things are going to get. 

We did not get to go to church as much as we would have liked. Initially here, services were limited to around 10-25 people. That did not last long as the Catholic Church made it clear that they would not abide by so severe a restriction on worship. Most protestant churches agreed with the Catholic Church on this. Distribution of the Eucharist was changed drastically, with the precious blood of Christ restricted to the priest and deacon only, in many churches. While receiving the body alone was wondrous, and no less miraculous, it still did not seem the same. Priests were behind plexiglass walls for distribution at some churches. It was pretty weird. There were lots of outdoor services, which I did not like and did not attend. 

At my gym I tried to find times to go when no one else would be there. But when they changed the rules to make people stay 12 feet apart and wear a mask while exercising, I gave up. No way you can run laps around a track or on a treadmill with a mask on. Can't get enough breath, just bad in every way. 

Professional and college sports were severely curtailed. No crowds in the stands, coaches wearing masks, etc. Made the whole spectacle much less interesting. I watched sports much less. Many events cancelled. 

It was a year of racial strife, a topic outside the scope of this blog. I have nothing more to add to what has already been said. I do not have any insight that would be of any help to the reader. My opinion on what transpired is evolving.    

As we enter the second year of this lockdown I will read a lot and work on some other hobbies. I have a couple of projects to consider. Perhaps 2021 will be better in some ways, but in may others ways will be hard to beat. Don't think I will be getting two new grandchildren this year but it's only January. If I can get all the current crew to Roan Mountain in September, that will be good indeed. 

Advent in time of Pandemic

 What does Advent mean to us during a time of pandemic? Or perhaps a better question is, What is different about our celebration this year? Advent hasn't changed, but we have, at least a little. One year ago we were in the midst of the angst and cynicism of a presidential impeachment. That had an impact on our celebration, though it should not have. One year from now there will be some new thing to distract and detach us from the glorious tradition. 

Perhaps we cannot help but look at this time differently or in some new way. Despite the added free time on our hands I believe the temptation will be to think of the season less. There was something about the busyness of Christmas seasons past that made us want  to make sure that we did not leave out the Christ story and message. I sense that focus is missing this year. 

This Advent should be like all others. A time to contemplate the anniversary of the coming of Christ. A season full of reminders. The refreshing of the Church calendar. Immaculate Conception. St. Nicholas Day. The journey to Bethlehem. The colors and candles of the four Sundays. Midnight Mass. All pointing to the most important thing that ever happened in human history, God incarnate. His coming to earth in human form. 

Christmas 2020. Gone are the parades, the hauling of kids to see Santa, the corporate parties, the Christmas pageants and concerts. No distractions, no excuses. Come Christmas! 

Penance and Confession

 In the 1970's I stole something from two places of business. One I worked at, one I did not. I was younger and in some ways wiser than I am today. But that did not keep me from doing bad stuff. I finally made things right a couple of weeks ago. 

I just realized this crazy thing. One place knew I did it, let me know they knew, replaced what I had stolen, and let me off. 

The other place knew the thing had been stolen but didn't know it was me. 

For years I carried around in my wallet a piece of paper that reminded me of these debts. Why did I wait so long to fix this? When I finally got around to it I wrote two anonymous letters explaining what I had done, apologizing. Stuffed in cash to cover my sin, plus some. 

Felt pretty good to finally do that. Felt bad that I had waited so long to do something so right.  

This experience is like unto the Sacrament of Confession. How often do we let things go unsaid because too much time has passed? Do we think old sins sort of expire after a while and don't need confessing? 

I think it is more likely that we don't really ponder our shortcomings as we should. That piece of paper in my wallet should have been a daily reminder to fix that thing. Instead it was just another faded piece of yellow stuffed between other old pieces of paper. Confession demands the same attention as our deepest prayers. That is the only way we'll get to that sweeter sounding term.... Reconciliation. 

Deep Thanksgiving

Sometimes there are thanks we want to offer that we just don't have right words for. 

In my family this week we had some wonderful health news but it's not my place to say who it was or the condition. It was something that could have been horrible but was not.

Had the news been bad I would have just fallen to my knees pleading for a miracle. The news was good and I find the rejoicing so difficult to verbalize. I have lots of words when I ask God for something. When prayers are answered it's hard to move beyond "thanks". I don't have all the words to say what it is that I want to express. Everything comes out sort of the the same way, a weak feeble, "thanks". Granted, sometimes they are all caps and shouted with joy, other times just whispered. 

When the words don't come, we must be content just to be in the presence of God. To seek to be constantly mindful of his wonderful gifts. To contemplate his power as much in thanksgiving as in supplication. Teach me to be truly grateful O Lord. Every single moment. Right now. 

In Romans 8:26 the Apostle Paul puts a light on the incompleteness of our prayers. The English Standard Version translates his words beautifully. "Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words."

This has indeed been a day for groanings. It is also a day to ponder, "What if we had not prayed?"

My church was closed today

 My Catholic church was closed today. I needed it to be open. 

Before the pandemic it was open everyday, all day. It has a small beautiful chapel that is a wonderful place to pray, to be in the presence of God, to step out of the secular and into the divine. 

Now it is open about half of the days. Not on Wednesdays apparently. I was born on a Wednesday and have found it to often be a day when one is much in need of Christ. No less so than other days.  

Undeterred, I walked over to the large crucifix and knelt and prayed there. It is outside, so not subject to keys and locks and chimes and light switches and hvac units and other instruments that rule inside buildings. 

Lord please hear my prayer this day for one so close and dear to me. 

Thoughts on the birth of my grandson, Benjamin

 What a wonderful blessing to welcome a second grandson this summer.

While you are not the first, you are the son of my son, and that makes you special and distinct. Being the father of a son is very different than being the father of a daughter (to state the obvious) and there will be a special set of joys you will bring to your family.  

I have not yet held you, that is several days away. But when I do I will be drawn back to that day when I held your dad for the first time. How wonderful it was, as a man, to hold this small future man in my hands. The first word I will whisper in your ear will be the name of our Saviour, and I will make the sign of the cross on your forehead. Perhaps some day you will be as fortunate as I and will do the same with your child and grandchild, please do. 

How blessed you are to be born to this man and woman. They love you so much and will raise you up to be a true son of our Father. Your sisters will meet you today for the first time and they will get another glimpse of true love as new feelings for you immediately spring forth inside them. 

So much is running through my head as I think about you. I try and picture you as a young man, but that is so difficult. You are a big baby so I imagine you as a big kid and a big man. Ahead lie the St. Louis Cardinals, long hot days at the ball park, other afternoons on some ball field with a team of friends, nights alone studying schoolwork, riding a bike, climbing a tree, driving a car. Each good thing making you more and more into the type of person you should be. 

 It is easy to think about all the troubles in this world and the many trials you will face, but for now I have to set that aside and simply thank God that you are here. I am thankful for your parents and their love for each other. I am thankful for the wisdom I see in them as they raise your sisters. 

Your family needs you. How and in what way, we don't know. But we know their family is already bigger and better and more complete because of you. There will be things about you that make your mom and dad better parents. There will be ways you make your sisters better young women. When the time comes for them to marry, if you become the young man I think you will, they will think often about the best things about you and your dad, and they will want to marry someone who is a bit like both of you. 

As you sleep in the arms of your mother, you are the image to us of the beauty of creation. You are now with her as we should all be with our heavenly Father, totally dependent, unable to do a single thing on your own behalf. Like us at so many times, you are also unaware of the goodness that rains down upon you. Unaware and thus unable to offer thanks for the nourishment and warmth and blessings that surround you. 

Soon you will be baptized into His Church and the grace of our Lord will pour upon your soul. It will be the start of your walk with Him who will guide you always. How great is the love of our Lord for you, that he called you to life at this time and place. 

Remember me in your prayers, as I will for you. God bless you Benjamin Brooks, and preserve you in his Holy arms. 

The Nativity of John the Baptist

When I became Catholic, there were many things I grew to love that I had not thought much about when pondering finer points of theology. One is the church calendar. There is always something going on and it is always pointing to Jesus.

This week we celebrated the birth of John the Baptist. Just six more months until Christmas! Three months ago, when snow was still on the ground, came the annunciation - 9 months until Christmas. The angel told Mary at that time that her cousin Elizabeth was in her sixth month. Mary traveled to see Elizabeth, who became in a way the first evangelist, sorta. It was Elizabeth who proclaimed that the child Jesus, living three months in the womb of Mary, was "my Lord".

John the Baptist. The Precursor. He must increase and I must decrease. Leaping in the womb as Mary approaches Elizabeth. Preparing the way of the Lord. In the wilderness with a few followers. The baptizer of Jesus. Martyr at the hand of Herod Antipas.

Saint John the Baptist, pray for us. 

He's not playing golf.

My brother died a year ago today. I miss him more than I can write about, so I won't even try.

A friend pondered, in a sort of joking/sort of not joking way, "I wonder who is in his foursome today". Around  major sporting events, he has told me my brother has "the best view of all".

I don't have any real conception of what heaven is like, but I think I am on firm ground when I assert that it is not at all like golf. It is not like watching Alabama/Auburn in football

The Bible tells us over and again that our mind cannot conceive the glory of this new land. Perhaps it will be familiar but in a way that gives new meaning to the word familiarity. My brother is going to this land beyond land in a time beyond time worshiping the King of all Kings. Perhaps he is already there.

Closing Churches in March of 2020

Having grown up in the Baptist Church, I fully expected the wave of shutdowns over the virus. In the church of the first 50 years of my life, closures were rare, but not unheard of. Particularly in the South where any threat of ice or snow was reason to call off church. Love for senior citizens was always the excuse, "we don't want the old folks slipping on the sidewalk". This also meant, "the senior citizens are too stupid to make decisions for themselves". Power out, close the church. Hurricane warning, close the church.

This was a key reason the handful of non-Catholic churches I am in touch with gave for closing. "we have lots of old folks". No you don't, no more than any other church. You have SOME old folks, they dominate your finances, but not your membership. However, you still think they are too stupid to make their own decisions. Got it. 

I was particularly disappointed when my Catholic Church here stopped all masses. At the time it did not seem the right thing to do, and after several days it still does not. However, I don't have to make the decision, I just get to sit in the stands and second guess the coach.

Seems we could have worked around this. No more than 50 at a mass, got it. Not more than 10, we'll work around that. Have more masses or communion services and spread the people out. We could have found a way to stay open. In fairness I should point out that my parish is expanding Eucharistic Adoration from one day a week to seven, and asking that no more than ten be in the church sanctuary at one time. That is good and much much better than totally shutting down. 

Behind the closings there is an assumption that during times like these, all gatherings of large groups of people are bad. It's bad for a bunch of sports fans to gather at a casino, it's bad for teenagers to party at the beach, and it's bad for Catholics to gather together to drink the precious blood of Christ and eat his precious body. Listen to the public pronouncements. Gatherings of the Church are lumped into the same category as all other meetings. The secular rulers of this age see nothing special about who we are or what we do when we gather, which is to be expected.

In this current round of church closing, it is all being done under the guise of some good end. My little country parish proclaimed that the common good should be our aim. Pope Francis has said similar things. Does this mean that as a Christian my highest priority is something other than to be more and more like Christ? That is what I thought at first reading. Perhaps it just means the common good is important. I get that, but there is something about the Church being in agreement with government that makes me a bit uneasy. There is a always a conflict between the secular idea of a common good and the devotion to Christ of His Church.

During this time the parish I live in proclaims....

It is important for us to be in solidarity with one another and seek the common good the best we can together. With that in mind, I am choosing to honor the recommendations of government authorities...

Wow, that's a scary one. How many times in history have good people said that and ended up on the wrong side of history.

Perhaps the church is right and the government is right and we should close the churches as a way to help our fellow man survive this crisis. Perhaps. Perhaps. Closing churches does not make us a better people. It does not make us more like Christ, who walked among those with terrible diseases. It does not make us physically stronger and more virus resistant. It is not a common good. We are weaker today than a week ago. We will be weaker still a week from now.

Jail time, I need more

Once a month I help conduct a church service at the local jail. Like hospice, this is an "I get to", not an "I have to".

The attendance is usually very light, never more than a half-dozen. After all, this is a fairly small county jail, not a Riker's Island or Folsom Prison.

Today there were three of us. Me and two women in their mid-30s. The Sunday Mass gospel reading for today is the story of Jesus and the woman at the well in Samaria. Many of you know that story, of the discarded, rejected, outcast woman who encountered Christ in two drinks of water. The drink of physical water that she provided him. The drink of everlasting life of living water that He offered to her.

You know the story, we all do. But I know it better from sharing it with two women who are also scorned, discarded, rejected and outcast. Right now. Right here. They knew that woman in the passage. They knew her tears. They knew how hard her life was. Face to face.

We held hands and shared prayers. I will likely not see either of them again. But time and again the gospel message comes to life for me in the faces and voices and tears of the hurting and the dying. I am drawn to them for reasons that I do not understand.

My life has just been so much more than it should have been...

What I will do/not do during virus time

I will not stop being with people.
I will not stop shaking their hand.
I will run to the Eucharist, the Church, the Body
I will offer a touch to the hurting and suffering.
I will be paranoid and irrational.
I will joke about the virus and my mortality
I will buy things I don't need.
I will go places I shouldn't.
Just as I always do.

What I learned at her funeral

Thoughts about her following Vivian's funeral

I should have known her better.

I could have known her better, I had the opportunity and passed on it. We both are to blame. If I had gone first she would have been thinking the same thing about me.

From a small service you see much bigger things. The whole of what matters in this life.

I was there not because I knew her well, but because I didn't. Because she was family. God created family for when times are fun and easy and for when it is hard.

Suffering differs so much across time and place. I cannot say I know what you are going through, because I don't. The suffering of the one who lost a sibling is different from my loss. I feel as inadequate in sharing his grief as he did in sharing mine. Nothing I say helps to fill that void, but it is good to know that others are there.

This priest is one acquainted with grief.