Christmas - 2021

 John 1:1-5, 9-14

In the beginning, was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came to be through him, and without him, nothing came to be. What came to be through him was life, and this life was the light of the human race; the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world came to be through him, but the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, but his own people did not accept him. But to those who did accept him, he gave power to become children of God, to those who believe in his name, who were born not by natural generation nor by human choice nor by a man’s decision but of God. And the Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us, and we saw his glory, the glory as of the Father’s only Son full of grace and truth.

 Understanding what is meant by “Word” is the first challenge for us. We think of "Word" as being a noun, an inanimate thing that rests in whatever place we position. We also tend to think of "love" as being a simple emotion or "abide" as a place of rest. When we think of God, however, all things are in motion and require energy to fulfill God's intention. To understand this amazing, mystifying and incredible passage we first come to understand God used "Word" to bring all things into being. 

God said, “Let there be light” and light appeared, light that can never be extinguished. I love the imagery “word” evokes. We communicate by words, we create with words, we express ourselves with words. Words can be wasted or dangerous but the word of God is never less than a complete mission and redemption for us. We believe in the word because the word believed in us first and created us to love the word. The word loved us first, last, and always. "Word" is not a noun it is a verb.

In the past week, we heard Father Shea use words to tell the story of Deacon Dick. His words created a vision that consoled our sadness and pointed us toward consolation 

I have often sat in the quiet during the Christmas season just gazing at our Christmas tree and whatever decorations we have put up that year. In my imagination, the many lights on our tree and those shining around the quaint English village we set up come to represent all of the people of my life who have shared the season with me. Often memories of Christmas’s past come to mind and the memories reflect the richness of my life. I hear Mary Kay Huber sing an incredible rendition of “O Holy Night” during the Christmas Eve service at the First Methodist church in Anaconda while the congregation sang along with her while raising and lowering a hundred candles which threw dazzling shadows around the walls and ceiling of the church. The memories pull at my heart 60 years later.

The lights bring back the words I spoke to baptize a baby named John we gave back to God 40 years ago this past week. I also see the lights shining in the eyes of my sons as they delighted with the first illumination of the tree 30 years ago.

We read and hear these words: What came to be through him was life, and this life was the light of the human race; the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.

Our Christmas lights dazzle and sparkle and bring us enjoyment but they are nothing compared to the light of Christ which first appeared with his incarnation. What amazes me is the light was always there, always shining in the darkness but we could not see the light until the words were spoken by Mary, “Let it be as you intend” allowed the word to become flesh. This is what revealed the light to us. It happened through the power of the Word.

Our very existence, our joy for the day and all days, our hope and consolation for the future exist in, through, and out of the Word. 

Credo verbum.

Creidim an focal.

I believe the word.

Fourth Sunday of Advent - Peace

Luke 1:39-45

Mary set out and traveled to the hill country in haste to a town of Judah, where she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the infant leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit, cried out in a loud voice and said,

“Blessed are you among women,

and blessed is the fruit of your womb.

And how does this happen to me,

that the mother of my Lord should come to me?

For at the moment the sound of your greeting reached my ears,

the infant in my womb leaped for joy.

Blessed are you who believed

that what was spoken to you by the Lord

would be fulfilled.”

I am always grateful for the iconic recitation of this passage in A Charlie Brown Christmas. It reminds us to join the chorus of praise that those shepherds of old heard, “Glory to God in the Highest and on earth peace among men with whom he is pleased.” (Lk 2:14). That the essential Christmas message is given from the most unlikely, and yet wisest, character of the show should not be lost on us. In his humility, clutching at his blue security blanket, Linus sees what no one else could and tells us what Christmas is all about.

“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shined”

Isaiah 9:2

As I write this, I anticipate that peace and joy is not the feeling our nation or world will be feeling as we roll up on the 4th Sunday of Advent, the last Sunday before Christmas. Snow is falling softly in fluttering quarter-sized flakes and the world outside has become blanketed with a few inches of white, fluffy snow. A currier and Ives portrait has been etched on the landscape outside my window. If I was to imagine what world gifted with Christmas peace, what would be imagined would be what I can see. A storybook Christmas scene, snow falling on barren cottonwoods and frosted pine trees. I love what I can see and I ache to hold on to the image and never let go. The world, however, will not allow the peace I see to linger. I am struck with the truth the peace I see is not what Christmas peace is all about anyway. Peace is not about what we can see, it is about what is in our hearts.

When Christmas comes, we will undoubtedly still be roiling from this long and arduous year, which has drawn us down into an abyss. The “results” of the election will still divide further our nation, families, communities, and parishes. The plague of COVID-19 and all the restrictions this pandemonium of fear has imposed will still be crushing to the spirit, to put it mildly. How will we find the peace we are promised? Where can we find peace when relationships are being ruptured by the debate over vaccinations?

The peace we expect to come with Christmas is elusive this year, perhaps even more so than usual as sorrow darkens our thoughts. The loss of our beloved Deacon brings sadness as we think first about all of the ways he loved and impacted us. Through the sadness, though, comes some first glimpses of peace as the promise of the incarnation reminds us death is just an illusion, and belief brings peace that leads to joy consolation. He has gone home. He is at peace. We rejoice for him but we still need to wipe the tears of today away to let peace find its way to us.

Where is peace? We are called to reject fear and to rejoice because the Prince of Peace is born again. Out of unseen places he appears. Christ has come and He remains with us through it all. The beauty of our faith is that we do not need to succumb to the anxiety our world generates. Sorrow need not be our legacy.

Rather, we can remain fixed upon that great luminary of the night sky that portends God’s victory over every evil that afflicts us. Liturgy declares in the ‘O antiphon’ for the day: “O radiant dawn, sun of justice: come and shine on those who dwell in darkness and in the shadow of death.”

This antiphon reminds me of one of my favorite scenes from the Lord of the Rings. As Samwise Gamgee and Frodo Baggins are making their way to Mount Doom, across the sickened and dark plains of Mordor, Sam sees a “white star twinkle for a while” in the dim and pale night sky. “The beauty of it smote his heart, as he looked up out of forsaken land, and hope returned to him. For like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end, the Shadow was only a small passing thing: there was light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach.”

Advent reminds us that we are born up by a star in the night sky. Hope is the virtue God gives to endure the trials of this life here, below the heavens, with certainty that the Prince of Peace will prevail as His light pierces the darkness. Christmas reminds us that our hope is not in vain. Christ did come, and he will come again when the time is right. In fact, the Lord is never late; he shows up precisely when he means to. This Christmas will be no different. Peace comes from the prince who teaches us Joy and life eternal will come. We believe it.

Third Sunday Advent - Joy 2021

Luke 3:10-18

The crowds asked John the Baptist, “What should we do?” He said to them in reply,
“Whoever has two cloaks should share with the person who has none. And whoever has food should do likewise.” Even tax collectors came to be baptized and they said to him,

“Teacher, what should we do?” He answered them, “Stop collecting more than what is prescribed.” Soldiers also asked him, “And what is it that we should do?” He told them,

“Do not practice extortion, do not falsely accuse anyone, and be satisfied with your wages.” Now the people were filled with expectation, and all were asking in their hearts
whether John might be the Christ. John answered them all, saying,

“I am baptizing you with water, but one mightier than I is coming. 

I am not worthy to loosen the thongs of his sandals.

He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.

His winnowing fan is in his hand to clear his threshing floor

and to gather the wheat into his barn, 

but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”

Exhorting them in many other ways, he preached good news to the people.

Dominica Gaudii – Sunday of Joy

Again we have the challenge of looking at the gospel to find a message of joy to connect the word of God to the theme of the day. In this passage John offers a simple prescription for living. As Thomas Aquinas would say more than a 1000 years later after John preached to the locals, the second coat in your closet is not yours so give it away. It belongs to poor. Hmmm, I think we need to talk about that. Maybe my second hunting coat or my second fishing coat but not all of them besides the first one. I digress.

Should we expect joy from living honestly as challenged John or should the knowledge of having done the next right thing be enough reward for doing what we should be doing without expectation of return? Right living alone is not enough. What else does John say that might lead to Joy? There is his promise of the coming of Christ, the same promise we embrace today. Jesus is coming. He will baptize us with the spirit and draw us to himself as the miller stores the good wheat after the chaff is separated.

The more I reflect on this short passage, the more kernels of the finest grain I find. He said not to extort, do not be dishonest, be satisfied and generous with what we have. If we do all these things then we will find joy but we also have to be secure in our belief of the coming incarnation. Understanding these things fills me with a sense of joy because they are all things I can do, things I have been doing, things that we all do together. I am not giving away all of my coats just yet but I will give to the poor who will not offer me any praise and not just to those who I hold dear. I just have to take the first step and let go of what I don’t need. 

In the days since I first started this reflection something curious has happened. I find myself settling deeper into the anticipation of the incarnation. Thinking back over the course of the year I find myself stunned on the changes the world has seen but even more acutely, the changes I have progressed through. The beginning of the year was filled with hesitation and anxiety as I stood at the brink of transition from living out a vocation to leaving all of that behind to start a new phase of life in which there will not be a regular pay deposit every two weeks for the first time in 43 years. Nearly a half of a century. A very long time.

In the days since retirement, the anxiety has faded into a new routine that I dearly love. I recognize how blessed I have been over the years but how even more blessed I am today than ever. EVER. I lack nothing except, perhaps, a proper attitude of humility and gratitude but I will work on those things with increased diligence because today I have JOY I can’t even begin to express. That is right, joy.

What could even be more joyful? Acceptance of Christ even deeper into my heart, deeper into my essence, deeper into my being and deeper in every way to everyone in my life and, of course, beyond those limitations of time and space.

Maybe it is time to stock and ask just how many coats I really need and can some of them serve more than one purpose. The prospect of doing that brings me….. not joy. No yet but certainly a hope of more joy.


Post Script

Paul Harvey used to have a feature called “the Rest of the Story” which I dearly loved to listen to and that I miss hearing to this day but the phrase works here. And now here is the rest of the story.

I attended a retreat in Great Falls over the weekend at the Ursuline Centre. The retreat is annual event for me which I have enjoyed the last 13 years except for last year because the flipping pandemic messed it up. On Wednesday a terrible wind driven fire torched a large area of open

land just outside Great Falls but in a course of hours multiple structures were totally were burnt to the ground- or worse. Paul, the cook at the Centre for many years was one of those who, as the saying goes, lost everything. Fortunately he was not home when the fire happened so he is safe but all he had left to wear was the clothes he had with him in a room where he stays while working.

I brought two coats to Great Fall with me. I brought only one home.

So it begins.

Second Sunday of Advent - the Sunday of Hope

Luke 3:1-6

In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was tetrarch of Galilee, and his brother Philip tetrarch of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias was tetrarch of Abilene, during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John the son of Zechariah in the desert. John went throughout the whole region of the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah:

A voice of one crying out in the desert:

“Prepare the way of the Lord,

make straight his paths.

Every valley shall be filled

and every mountain and hill shall be made low.

The winding roads shall be made straight,

and the rough ways made smooth,

and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”

This is the Sunday of Advent, the Sunday we celebrate faith. We talk about faith often but what is it? What is this thing we seem to prize so dearly that that in moments of darkness or confusion, we find ourselves lost. When faith weakens, our hope in the future wobbles and fear wells up in us like an unwanted fog that obscures everything of value. Those of us with a sense of destiny and an urging for eternity chase after a secure faith like dogs chases after rabbits. We fall into a trap of thinking we will catch the rabbit in the next second bit we never quite close the gap.

I worry about my faith. Is my faith strong enough to sustain me? Is it enough to save me? Do I have faith enough to offer a welcoming safe hearth to others? Can I be a safe anchor for my family? Is my faith secure enough to weather the storms of adversity or the antagonistic challenges that rock my days and nights? I don’t know. I have doubt. We all do. We understand how critical faith is to finding joy, meaning and purpose in our lives today which lead to hope for a life eternal so search on with greater fervor.

Listen again to the words of the baptizer handed down to us. Imagine being willing to take up his

mission that was so at odds with the currents of believe in his time. Do I have the faith to preach in a way that reflects my charisms that Advent is not a time of giving or receiving but, rather, it is a time we to turn away from the distractions that do nothing to nourish our faith to turn toward preparing for His coming. I wonder if I can I express my ingrained and profound value of all human life from conception to natural death without worrying about offending others? Can I love others without question or concern about who they are or who they love? Does vaccination status have anything to do with human worth? Why is the discussion even relevant? 

These are questions I ponder today but not just today but every day. I am not alone and that is why we gather often so we can share our doubts and offer each other unending hope that comes from shared concern and love that arises out of the faith of our ancestors. 

I believe the prophet and the good news for today is I can cry out his words in affirmation and be glad I am not and I don’t have to be a voice crying in the wilderness. 

We joyfully acknowledge our faith lives today and it is stronger that yesterday because we have shared it together. 

2021 First Sunday Advent

Luke 21:25–28, 34–36

Jesus said to his disciples:
“There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on earth nations will be in dismay, perplexed by the roaring of the sea and the waves. People will die of fright in anticipation of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken. And then they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory. But when these signs begin to happen, stand erect and raise your heads because your redemption is at hand.

“Beware that your hearts do not become drowsy from carousing and drunkenness and the anxieties of daily life, and that day catch you by surprise like a trap. For that day will assault everyone who lives on the face of the earth. Be vigilant at all times and pray that you have the strength to escape the tribulations that are imminent and to stand before the Son of Man

With the suddenness of a winter storm, the end of the liturgical year, Thanksgiving and the first Sunday in Advent is upon us. What happened? Nothing out of the ordinary, just the routine flipping of pages on the calendar but there has been much to mark the passage of time. As I reflect on the past year, I realize how important is for me to enter into the quiet and to remind and renew my spirit of the true essence of time.

As we did last year, I would to walk through the Sundays of Advent with you, focusing each week on the theme of the Sunday Mass. It is important to not let the noise, tumult and, for some, the sadness of the season fill our conscious minds and emotions.

The Gospel passage for today cannot be more pertinent for this Sunday, the Sunday of hope. It points to the ultimate destiny of all of us, a destiny we long to embrace but, and there is a big but, there is also something else to overcome, fear.

The roaring of the seas will perplex us and perplexity will yield to fear. Even though I try live as instructed and invited, I am not spot on my performance. Who among us is? Is where I am close enough to the standards expected by God at the time of judgement? No. None of is nor can we ever be despite our best intentions.

So where do we find hope in the passage? Only in one sentence, just one can we find hope when he said: “But when these signs begin to happen, stand erect and raise your heads because your redemption is at hand.”

The promise redemption is at hand is the hook we need to seize. Everything else in the Gospels points and promises us there will be a redemption for us at the end of days. Even though it is easy to be fearful, he promises us in many places that we are not to be a afraid. We can leave the insecurities of the future to those who do not turn toward Holiness and move toward the fullness of union with Christ. We can rely upon the tender mercy of God in the midst of the storms of time.

The other important warning is to not let the anxieties of the day distract us. I am reminded to not let Christmas decorations, parties, gift giving or pointless displays of generosity not grounded in a Christian ethic distract me. Instead, I want to enter into a quiet period of prayer and service to others. The Christmas season brings great sorrow to my wife and I and to many others. There is no hope of healing from the sadness unless we remember God is coming to us as a man who like us, will experience all that we experience and promises us deliverance into a joyful eternity. 

Lord, help us to enter to season of coming with hope.

Parable of the 10 Gold Coins

Luke 19:11-28 

While people were listening to Jesus speak, he proceeded to tell a parable because he was near Jerusalem and they thought that the Kingdom of God would appear there immediately. So he said, “A nobleman went off to a distant country to obtain the kingship for himself and then to return. He called ten of his servants and gave them ten gold coins and told them, ‘Engage in trade with these until I return.’ His fellow citizens, however, despised him and sent a delegation after him to announce, ‘We do not want this man to be our king.’ But when he returned after obtaining the kingship, he had the servants called, to whom he had given the money, to learn what they had gained by trading. The first came forward and said, ‘Sir, your gold coin has earned ten additional ones.’ He replied, ‘Well done, good servant! You have been faithful in this very small matter; take charge of ten cities.’ Then the second came and reported, ‘Your gold coin, sir, has earned five more.’ And to this servant too he said, ‘You, take charge of five cities.’ Then the other servant came and said, ‘Sir, here is your gold coin; I kept it stored away in a handkerchief, for I was afraid of you, because you are a demanding man; you take up what you did not lay down and you harvest what you did not plant.’ He said to him, ‘With your own words I shall condemn you, you wicked servant. You knew I was a demanding man, taking up what I did not lay down and harvesting what I did not plant; why did you not put my money in a bank? Then on my return I would have collected it with interest.’ And to those standing by he said, ‘Take the gold coin from him and give it to the servant who has ten.’ But they said to him, ‘Sir, he has ten gold coins.’ He replied, ‘I tell you, to everyone who has, more will be given, but from the one who has not, even what he has will be taken away. Now as for those enemies of mine who did not want me as their king, bring them here and slay them before me.’” After he had said this, he proceeded on his journey up to Jerusalem.

And now, the reflections. Cousins speak side by side. One Protestant and the other Catholic. Can you tell which is Catholic and which is Protestant?

The reflection on the left: I do not much care for this reading. I never have. Where is the warm, soft, and welcoming Jesus I expect to find in Bible? You know the guy I expect. The one who says please and thank you. The Jesus who said having good intentions are the same as good behavior. Here comes the guy who says if your hand offends you, cut it off or calls well-meaning but naïve Pharisees things you would not call a dog. How can he expect us to take this parable seriously? Would God really describe himself the way the new king seems to relish here? I like the Jesus who invites me to take up his yoke and to love one another but this guy? No thanks. What is really going here? Surely there more than we see at first blush. Let us look deeper. The analogy of the nasty new king would be as familiar to those of that time as the story of Trump and the election is to us. The listeners were very much aware of Archelaus, son of Herod, who went to Rome to get his “crown” and when he came back large and in charge he butchered the enemies who dared raise opposition to his desire. There is no mistaking Jesus was using the analogy to give us a picture of the future. Jesus was telling us he was going to be going away for a time and then would return and that when he returned there would be reckoning. I get it. Jesus was going to die, be resurrected, ascend into heaven, and then return again at the end of times to judge the living and the dead. There is another uncomfortable word, judge. Why, however, does he have to talk like Archelaus and suggest he was going to pick up what he did not lay down and to harvest what he had not sown? It is just mean spirited and out of place. Or is it. I want to stop and look across the bible for more perspective. The first thing is to recognize the style of communication in ancient Israel. Everything was exaggerated, histrionic and given to hyperbole. Look at the prophets. They did not pussy foot around. All manner of death, destruction and mayhem was going to rain down if the people did not quit doing evil in the eyes of the Lord. Check out this little gem from Zechariah that popped up recently: “I will destroy the pride of the Philistine and take from his mouth his bloody meat, and his abominations from between his teeth!” Ouch. Coming back to the parable, I have to accept there is no sugar coating the fact judgement day is coming and if we act like the 10th servant, we are in for a world of hurt. If, by my own actions, I deprive myself of being judged the worthy, I will not think it is my fault. It would be God’s fault for being mean to me. Never mind that I know full well that God does not want me to be slain in front of him. The message I need to hear is actions have consequences. Message heard, loud and clear. The bottom line is I need to get over how this passage makes me feel. My wife points out feelings are my enemy because they, my feelings, never get it right. The fate of the 10th servant does not have to be my fate. Thank God. Literally, thank God! He will pick up what he has laid down and he will reap what he has sown. I have free will to choose whether to be part of the harvest. We all do. You already knew the truth here. We all do. The message today is knowing the truth is not the same as living it. We gather around the virtual tables today to remind each other of the truth and to offer a helping hand to live out the truth it so others will see and believe.

The reflection on the right: Have you ever heard someone say, “My God would never ________!" or "I can't believe in a God that would _________!"? This passage is one of the passages that could lead someone to say one or the other of those things. In a passage that has a classic coffee cup quote-"Well done my good servant." we also read "bring them here and kill them in front of me." One of those quotes we are quick to believe and plaster on fridges, plaques, mugs, and bumper stickers. "LK 19 27" will only make it on the license plate of someone headed for the electric chair. But Jesus attributes to the same king. We cannot have one without the other. The context is Jesus telling a story because people around Him thought He was going to establish THE Kingdom immediately. So He is speaking to what that Kingdom will be like. There are two groups of people aside from the king-servants and subjects. The king is accused by one servant as being "...a hard man. You take out what you did not put in and reap what you did not sow." The subjects seem to all have a dislike for the king and reject him as king and in fact lobby for him to not be king. The servants were given a simple and specific task - take the money the king gave them and put it to work. The servants who did what they were told to do (obeyed) were rewarded with great responsibility. The one who did not was severely reprimanded and left with nothing. 8 years ago I would have not responded as I am about to, but now I am convinced that Jesus is concerned with His disciples obeying Him. The message to the servants is clear. Obey the king. Jesus is teaching obedience. If you obey the king, you will be rewarded. If you do not, you will be reprimanded and lose any hope of reward...but as a servant, not be killed in front of the king. The message with the subjects who rejected the king is far more disturbing. Kill them in front of me? While I do not like it, I have to accept the truth that there are only two kinds of people. Those who will accept Jesus as king and those who will not. Those who accept Him become His servants and can expect one of the two outcomes we just covered related to servants. Those who reject Him will be given an severe punishment. And there will be a day when those who reject Jesus will be judged and sentenced to eternal torment. Lastly, simply because the subjects and at least some servants did not like the king or thought him to be a hard man or unfair, does not make him unfair at all. It means my American, middle class, small town, church-going self has a different understanding of what a fair god would do than God actually does. Lastly, if this is about Jesus as King and subjects who reject Him get the just punishment of that rejection then it is incumbent on me, His servant, to obey Him and seek to bring subjects into servant status by explaining that the just God who will punish those who don't follow Him is the same God who paid the price of their rejecting Him so as to become the one who justifies all who willingly accept His sacrifice as full payment for their having transgressed the King's law. "Go therefore and disciple all peoples...teaching them to obey all I commanded you."

 

Ten Lepers

Luke 17:11-19

As Jesus continued his journey to Jerusalem,
he traveled through Samaria and Galilee. As he was entering a village, ten lepers met him. They stood at a distance from him and raised their voice, saying, “Jesus, Master! Have pity on us!”
And when he saw them, he said, “Go show yourselves to the priests.” As they were going they were cleansed. And one of them, realizing he had been healed, returned, glorifying God in a loud voice; and he fell at the feet of Jesus and thanked him.
He was a Samaritan. Jesus said in reply, “Ten were cleansed, were they not? Where are the other nine? Has none but this foreigner returned to give thanks to God?” Then he said to him, “Stand up and go; your faith has saved you.”

Padraig Mc Murphy was desperate to get to Gus O'Connor's by 6:00 because three free drink tickets for Tullamore Dew were being given away to everyone. His ruthless boss kept him grinding away until 5:30 (his normal quitting time, by the way) so he had barely enough time to drive from the office to the pub. Traffic delayed him a tad so that it was 5:53 when he turned on to Flannery street where the pub was located. Desperate to find a place to park where he could rush through the doors in time to get his tickets, he offered up this solemn vow.

“God, if you were to grant me a brilliant parking spot where I can make through the doors in time to claim my free tickets, I will faithfully attend Sunday Mass every week until Christmas,” he pleaded. As he completed the turn, he found not just one, but three empty spots open right in front of the door to the pub. Happiness overflowed in him and he offered up a second prayer.

“God, never mind. I found a spot on my own. No need for your help this time,” he said with a relieved smile with the misery of a long line of Sunday mass obligations fading away from his view of the future.

So, what you ask, does this wee joke have to do with the gospel reading today. The answer comes in that gospel has nine guys just like Padraig and one who knew and embraced the truth. But for the intervention of God, ten men would still be lepers. The healing did not just happen by coincidence, and they certainly did not do anything themselves that resulted in a miracle. They were recipients of God’s mercy and grace. Plain and simple.

Bargaining with God is all too easy. I do it often despite my best efforts to be humble enough to accept his blessings with gratitude. I live in a wondrous place I found just because I searched long and hard and so I deserve to live here. I did the work as promised and God delivered as I expected.

In vulnerable moments, like now, I think about the countless others who have worked just as hard, if not harder, and would therefore be more deserving than I to be here. I did not earn anything. None of us have. We just did our part, and the rest has been all completely reliant on the grace of God.

I don't want to be one nine who mindlessly skipped down the road to the nearest tavern to make merry so I should not act like it. None of us should. What we have is a gift. What about all of the riches we do not have? Certainly, this house could be bigger and more nicely finished but what I do not have

is not the consequence of something I have done warranting punishment because I have been provided for in ways I can’t even imagine. I, for one, do not even want to know the full scope of the bounty given me. I simply pray for the ability to be grateful and to be grateful to he who has blessed me.

Today, I choose to be like the Samaritan who “realizing he had been healed, returned, glorifying God in a loud voice; and he fell at the feet of Jesus and thanked him.” As for the rest of you, what is your choice?

Not Peace But Division

Luke 12:22-30

Jesus said to his disciples:
“I have come to set the earth on fire,
and how I wish it were already blazing!
There is a baptism with which I must be baptized,
and how great is my anguish until it is accomplished!
Do you think that I have come to establish peace on the earth?
No, I tell you, but rather division.
From now on a household of five will be divided,
three against two and two against three;
a father will be divided against his son
and a son against his father,
a mother against her daughter
and a daughter against her mother,
a mother-in-law against her daughter-in-law
and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law.”


The gospel reading today is poignant for me coming as it does in the aftermath of a very emotional week with family. When I was young, I never dreamed the piercing declaration of Jesus in this passage would ever have much of a connection to my family. My family, at least on my mother’s side were all faithful believers, active in the church and, as I have come to learn over the years, dedicated students of the word. We did not experience division based upon belief. Not that we did not have different perspectives on things but when it came time to celebrate Christmas, Easter, or any given Sunday, we

all suited up and showed up, as the saying goes. It never occurred to me that what seemed monolithic, and eternal would prove fragile and hard to sustain over time. Once we are all on the same page but now we are not even all in a book of any kind much less the same one.

The concern I have is not over which expression of faith we pursue, be it Catholic or Protestant because what we share in common is far more significant than where we differ. Belief in an all-powerful, merciful, and loving God is the benchmark for all of us who still believe and who are still active.

My sister and her family have taken a left turn. I am not sure there is even a modicum of belief in God in Jessica and Jackson. I do not know that for sure but at the very least they fall into the agnostic category. Marcia herself is on her own journey but we never really talk about what her perception of God and belief looks like. Our differing beliefs do not divide us, not in the way Jesus describes in this passage but we are no longer intimately connected on a spiritual basis like we once were or like I would like to believe we were.

I am also saddened that neither Richard nor Brian have stayed in a Christian church much less the Catholic church. The sadness and regret are deepened by the realization of my failure to be a good role model and to catechize them well enough to have them remain active in a religious and spiritual plane. I have no doubt they still believe but I am not sure how much of the traditional Catholic teachings they still hold on to even in a vague, cultural capacity.

They have become partners with women I love and appreciate but they did not bring any kind of faith to the relationships, and they may well be partially responsible for the chasm that now exists between themselves on God. We have chosen to not make a big deal of lack of faith, belief, and practice but there is an ache in my heart that family gatherings do not include an active faith practice and our church life is wholly separated from our children and granddaughter. This saddens me and today my sorrow is even deeper.

This past weekend I had the opportunity to be of service to my cousin Carri and her family by offering my charism to lead a memorial celebration of life for cousin Quinn, a man I never met prior to his death which is a whole other area of regret for me. When facing the desire to get to Washington and meet my family there, I always seem to have something more important get in the way of getting there. Now Quinn is gone but a blessing comes because I had the opportunity to learn as much about him as I could. I would have liked him, and I suspect he would have liked me even though we might have been so different.

It is a fact; however, it would have been better that I not have been the leader. It should have been the job of ordained clergy who knew Quinn and that Quinn had been part of the clergy's church. I do not doubt that our merciful God will judge him with justice, but a family member should not have been obliged to moderate a spiritual but not religious liturgy.

Do not misunderstand. I was honored to be able to bridge the gaps between belief, uncertainty, and unbelief. It is part of my evangelical mission of being of service to my family and the world and I hope to help others to see a light of faith that might be drawn them closer but in the end, we are divided, and I do not see the divisions being closed anytime soon. It is, of course, not up to me but I care enough to do what I can.

This morning I pray for Quinn, the rest of my family, and all other people who have become or always were separated. Jesus, bring the fire of baptism to my family and help me to be a candle bearer motivated by deep and abiding love to serve and be of service. Help me to reach out to be the missionary you have called me to be.

 

John 1:47-51 Nathanael

Gospel

Jesus saw Nathanael coming toward him and said of him, “Here is a true Israelite. There is no duplicity in him.” Nathanael said to him, “How do you know me?” Jesus answered and said to him, “Before Philip called you, I saw you under the fig tree.” Nathanael answered him, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God; you are the King of Israel.” Jesus answered and said to him, “Do you believe because I told you that I saw you under the fig tree? You will see greater things than this.” and he said to him, “Amen, amen, I say to you, you will see the sky opened and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man.”

In recent weeks, I have had the great blessing of being able to gear up and head down to the Bitterroot River to fish. It is an amazing gift to be able to put on my waders, grab a fully strung rod from a rack I have hanging from the ceiling and walk a shorter distance than an average golfer can drive a golf ball to the river. 

Being able to just fish when I want without much effort makes it much easier for me to slow down and settle into fishing as communion with the Holy Spirit rather than a race to see how many fish I can catch. It is where I can go to listen for the word of God spoken to me. I have always known that because it is a reason I  fish but sometimes I would, well, forget.

It used to be all too common for me to just march up to the riverbank, take a quick look up and downstream and then just wade into the current and move toward the place I determined to make my first cast. I had already given what I expected to find on the river enough thought to have tied on the flies I expected to work and planned what area of the river I should target first. It was only after fruitless time was spent casting and casting that would I take stock of what was really going on around me. My arrogant attitude caused me to demand the river to give me what I wanted rather than to humbly accept what the river was willing to give. 

Now I edge up to where I can up and down river and rather than just stomping in, I like to sit on the bank comfortably wedged where I could both sit upright and have my feet in the water so I could feel and hear the current pass over me. I spend some time watching various parts of the river to see if something might be revealed. Is there a hatch on? Are the fish rising in one place and not another? Has the river level changed since the last time I fished? What about the temperature and what about the wind? Is it blowing steadily at one speed or is it gusting? 

I pray a blessing on the river and things in it and offer a prayer of gratitude for the ability to engage creation in a way that recreates me. Only then do I rise and wade into the river to go to where the river calls me and blesses me in return. 

What has this to do with Nathanael? He was sitting under a fig tree, a tree that represents messianic peace. In other words, he was sitting in a place of blessing. Phillip called him to join him to meet the messiah and he did. When he is recognized by Jesus he is stunned. Jesus saw Nathaneal sitting in a blessed place waiting for Jesus but he, Nathanael, did not know it. How could he? But when he acknowledges Jesus, Jesus had a curious response that almost seems to say, "If you thought it was amazing I recognized you be advised there is much bigger stuff come. Just hold my staff and watch this."

When I go to the river to fish, it is not just about fishing any more than Nathanael was just sitting under a fig tree catching some shade and waiting for some fruit to drop on his lap. I go to wait to encounter the messiah. He recognizes me. He calls me by name. He promises me greater things to come. I believe it.  I live for the fulfillment of the promise. 

The funny thing is I seem to be catching more fish now. Hmm. Wonder why. 

Rest, Relax, Renew - Re-engage

Family Retreat Summary 
September 5-22, 2021 
Lolo - Great Falls - Sycamore Tree Retreat Center

This is a narrative summary reconstructed from my poorly kept notes. There was, I am, sure much more of substance not captured and it is very likely what moments were the most significant won't be included because they were private to the person.

Tuesday

We turned toward God, together as a family, that we might help each other in pursuit of rest, relaxation, renewal, and reconnection. What direction are we headed? Let share what was unfolded, in part, for the rest of the retreat time.

John 3:8

The wind blows where it wills, and you can hear the sound it makes, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes; so it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.”

This passage was not part of the pre-planned selection of Gospel passages intended as subjects for Lection Divina. It just forced its way into my consciousness immediately before retreat weeks began. I encountered in the last chapter of a book Penny sent for me to read but, I am ashamed to admit, it took me weeks to finish. Not that I did not want to read it. I did. I found the book thought and prayer-provoking, and I did not pick up the book unless I had time to devote reading and reflecting on what I read.

Looking back on the sequence now from the vantage point of being three weeks away for the events, I realize the timing worked out as God would have it because had I not finished the book when I did, I likely would have missed the immediate impact of the definition of the Holy Spirit, and I do mean impact. The message was for me to let go of the reins and let God direct our journey. I was too busy thinking this or that rather than simply watch and listen.

It is a troubling pattern for me to not trust in God and not open my eyes and ears. When I ask God "Where would you have me go?" or "What you have me do?", I already have some idea of how I would like to have both questions answered. I am perfectly willing to let the Spirit guide me as long as it lines up with MY ideas. The Holy Spirit, however, has its own direction and my need for validation is pointless and harmful. It is the work of my ego-driven false self-trying to run the show and doing a poor job of it. My true self is not bothered by such things and only seeks to answer the question of how to unite with the will of God.

The idea of not knowing where the spirit will blow me is terrifying because the destination may not be comfortable for me or what I think is what should be done. The idea of complete reliance is a struggle I wage from not only day to day but from minute to minute. It amazes me how quickly the urge to take control came spring up even with the short time it has taken me to write these few lines.

During the time we meditated on the text, I had to commit to letting go of the need to direct, to be willing to listen to the spirit, and to follow where it led. It did not matter what I thought we should study, what mattered is what the spirit revealed to me at the moment to guide our next steps. The gospel reading from the lectionary for today underscores the importance of not preparing for what we are to do or say but to rely on what would be provided at the moment we needed it. Let go and listen. How simple yet how difficult

Wednesday

Matthew 11:28-30

“Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.”

This reading was offered before the week as being the theme for our time together. It was one of the few passages planned for the week that was used after my encounter with John 3:8 and my recognition I needed to let the Holy Spirit guide us. My hope was the focus on this passage would offer a refuge from the demands of everyday life. Unfortunately, a stubborn water heater did not allow for a complete break from the routine. We tried.

There is much to say about this passage. Knowing every yoke is customized for the one who is to bear it gives each of us our identity in Christ, our own destiny to follow. We each have a personal individual relationship with Jesus, and he will share the burden he asks of us by touching every heart as if it were the only heart for him to engage.

This is not just about resting from the burden but it is about letting go of the need to make every decision. All we need to do is trust him, learn from him and be meek and humble of heart. We are not God. He is of God, and he left behind the Holy Spirit to help us through life. It is how we are yoked to him.

Still, the objective was to just relax, take walks, pray, eat, have light conversations as well as heavy talks as well and just sleep. I think we pretty well hit the bases of rest, review, renew and reconnect.

Stations of the Cross

After arrival at Sycamore Tree, we walked and prayed the Stations which reimagine the last journey of Christ to Golgotha and then up on to the Cross. As we reflected on the final journey, 

we mixed in the story of creation to remind us we were created by God to inhabit a world created for us and he found that the world was good, and we were very good, worthy of living on earth. We were created in love so we could love him, but we fell into sin from the fall of Adam and Eve, and we needed redemption. We then read John 1 and floated into the mystical human and divine person of Jesus who connects us to God and each of us to each other. Mankind loved and redeemed.

Thursday

ROMANS 13:1-2

Let every person be subordinate to the higher authorities, for there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been established by God. Therefore, whoever resists authority opposes what God has appointed, and those who oppose it will bring judgment upon themselves.

And

Colossians 3:12-18

Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, heartfelt compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience, bearing with one another and forgiving one another, if one has a grievance against another; as the Lord has forgiven you, so must you also do. And over all these put-on loves, that is, the bond of perfection. And let the peace of Christ control your hearts, the peace into which you were also called in one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, as in all wisdom you teach and admonish one another, singing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs with gratitude in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, in word or in deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.

Wives, be subordinate to your husbands, as is proper in the Lord. Husbands, love your wives, and avoid any bitterness toward them.

The first passage from Romans was the first reading at Mass. The second came from evening prayer of the liturgy of the hours the night before. The first passage speaks about the need to obey civil authority but another, broader, meaning came into focus when held up to Colossians. We are given instruction on how to live our lives in a beautiful, gentle way. We could spend a lifetime dwelling on just one sentence out of the several found here. We would be well served to pray the prayer every morning and then spend the day trying to live up to the expectations expressed in every line.

What is the connection? For me, it was in line 19 in which I am to love my wife. How best to love her? Obey her. Listen to her at the level of a changing encounter. She is my higher authority. I pray for the grace to be a higher authority for her in return.

Wonder – Beauty – Longing – Belonging

In the afternoon, I introduce the mystical spirituality of John O’Donohue with the idea Celtic Christian Spirituality might enrich your sabbath times. Pursuit of these things serves as important anchors for me during my daily life. The longing to belong is an essential part of our being. It is longing that binds us together in every aspect, marriage, family, church, community, and so on. Longing is what spurred us to enter into the mystery of the revelation and changed Abraham from pagan to Jew. In so doing, we all became something different than what was before. We know we need to connect to God to give our life purpose.

Please allow me to use the poem as a blessing for us that we might long and belong together.

FOR LONGING

by John O Donohue

Blessed be the longing that brought you here

and quickens your soul with wonder.

May you have the courage to listen to the voice of desire

that disturbs you when you have settled for something safe.

May you have the wisdom to enter generously into your own unease

to discover the new direction your longing wants you to take.

May the forms of your belonging – in love, creativity, and friendship –

be equal to the grandeur and the call of your soul.

May the one you long for long for you.

May your dreams gradually reveal the destination of your desire.

May a secret providence guide your thought and nurture your feeling.

May your mind inhabit your life with the sureness

with which your body inhabits the world.

May your heart never be haunted by ghost structures of old damage.

May you come to accept your longing as divine urgency.

May you know the urgency with which God longs for you

John 1:38

Jesus turned and saw them following him and said to them, “What are you looking for?” They said to him, “Rabbi” (which translated means Teacher), “where are you staying? “He said to them, “Come, and you will see.” So they went and saw where he was staying, and they stayed with him that day. It was about four in the afternoon.

I posed the questions “What are you looking for” and “What would you find when you went to see where Jesus was staying?” for us to reflect on and, curiously, it was about 4 in the afternoon when I did. As I prayed and considered the answer for myself, these things from Meister Eckhart came to mind not just for me but for all of us:

- Rusty: To be full of things is to empty of God. The challenge for us is to be empty of all things so God might fill the void. If we can empty all things not of God, all that remains is of God. That is who we are. We are not the construct we fashion to show the world that is really an empty shell. To know who you are and to accept that person is the deepest and most critical value of longing and belonging. To know who we are and to belong to the person is the grounding of all things human. Know this – I love the person I see when I look at you.

- Penny: All God wants of us is a peaceful heart. Peace is elusive to the wounded heart. It may not be achievable at all. Understand that being hurt is part of the mission we have to be engaged with the world. I fear wounding enough it keeps me from pursuing what might be expected of me. The wounding you experience is because you are reaching out. Allow your hurt to connect you to Christ to the hurt he suffered as a human. Reflect on this from John 11:35 – “And Jesus wept.” We see your hurt and we will reach out to embrace you in consolation. You belong to us.

- Lori: Do what you would do if you were most secure. To be honest, I am not sure why that came to mind. Perhaps it is because you are stepping into a long, broad, tall, and deep journey into prayer and contemplation, and it is a huge commitment. That certainly is a daunting mountain to climb.

- Rick: The most important person is the one sitting across from you. For me, that person is Lori. She is the most important person to me. I longed for her to come along and now I long to belong to her. Above all other persons, places, or things.

This last quote from Eckhart should be something we do every day that we might gain the full measure of what the day holds for us:

“Be willing to begin each day as a beginner.”

Mother Teresa Prayer

"Do It Anyway" 

• People are often unreasonable, irrational, and self centered. Forgive them anyway. 
• If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives. Be kind anyway. 
• If you are successful, you will win some unfaithful friends and some genuine enemies. Succeed anyway. 
• If you are honest and sincere people may deceive you. Be honest and sincere anyway. 
• What you spend years creating, others could destroy overnight. Create anyway. 
• If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous. Be happy anyway. 
• The good you do today, will often be forgotten. Do good anyway. 
• Give the best you have, and it will never be enough. Give your best anyway. 
• In the final analysis, it is between you and God. It was never between you and them anyway. ~Mother Teresa

This is an important prayer because it tells us that failure is a part of success, falling down is part of getting up, and everything anyway because it is how we respond to God’s call. This is the test of faith. To do things anyway even though we might fail is not something that is possible unless we have faith that everything we do conforms to God’s plan. How things turn out is up to him. As I wrestle with what it means to be a missionary these days, the prayer is on point for me as well. A seed was planted, and it has now grown to offer me shade and comfort from the heat.

Listening:

Rule of St. Benedict, Prologue:

Listen carefully, my son, to the master’s instructions, and attend to them with the ear of your heart. This is the advice from a father who loves you; welcome it, and faithfully put it into practice. The labor of obedience will bring you back to him from whom you had drifted through the sloth of disobedience. This message of mine is for you, then, if you are ready to give up your own will, once and for all, and armed with the strong and noble weapons of obedience to do battle for the true King, Christ the Lord.

Looking back over the days we spent together the first words of the rule of St. Benedict best capture for me the call to answer as came out of retreat and back to daily life. As an oblate, listening is the first thing I need to embrace from the moment I open my eyes in the morning until I close them at night. I hope that what dreams may come will bring words for me to listen to as well. I have begun to really study how to Listen to God so I can wrap what I learn into daily prayer, reading, encounters with others, and with the Word that I might know what God has in store for me. We all Listen. It is difficult sometimes and other times it is so easy it is simply pure comfort. Listening to St. Benedict, Saint Mother Teresa, John O’Donohue, Meister Eckhart, and scripture allow us to turn toward God. To be holy is simply to orient ourselves toward God and respond to Him in the many ways the spirit calls us toward him.

Peace be with you.

Post Script

In the days since the retreat but most particularly in the last week the question I can’t seem to escape is “What are you looking for?” It is never far from my mind whether I am tying a fly, sweetening kale, standing knee-deep in the river, or when I am quieting down my heart for prayer time. The answer, no, an answer comes when I receive the Eucharist. Another answer comes when I dig into a scripture passage. Yet another when Lori and I are quietly enjoying a movie on TV. Other times include when playing with Jane or watching the wind in the trees or hearing ducks on the pond yacking and splattering before taking off.

What am I looking for? The answers all add up to one thing, the same response given by Jesus. “Come and you will see.”

I am in good company, no, great company. Let’s look and listen together.

Take Nothing For the Journey - September 22, 2021

Luke 9:1-6

Jesus summoned the Twelve and gave them power and authority over all demons and to cure diseases, and he sent them to proclaim the Kingdom of God and to heal the sick.

He said to them, “Take nothing for the journey, neither walking stick, nor sack, nor food, nor money, and let no one take a second tunic. Whatever house you enter, stay there and leave from there. And as for those who do not welcome you, when you leave that town, shake the dust from your feet in testimony against them.”

Then they set out and went from village to village proclaiming the good news and curing diseases everywhere.

I don’t like this gospel passage. Not one little bit. I don’t like to be reminded about the great commission calling that ends the book of Matthew because it makes me uncomfortable. It is virtually impossible for me to even think about taking up the task of bringing the good news of the gospel to strangers who may react negatively to the offer.  The possibility of just one bad experience one time does the job just fine.

We live in a place and time that is referred to as being post-Christian. We Christians have had our time in the sun but in the eyes of many, we blew it. Our faith has been tarred and feathered by revelations about decades of abuse and mistreatment of the most vulnerable members of society, most sorrowfully our children. We are seen as bigots who deprive those who don’t believe like us of their basic human rights. That is not how we see it but the sting of rejection causes me to look away, wincing from the sound of the accusations.

Still, the call to evangelize has not faded away. It has become all the more important and we need to see the call expressed in the gospel reading as being personal, individual to each of us and we are invited to respond in the full measure our station in life will permit. I ask, what do I, an older, white, male, straight, orthodox, conservative, rich guy have to offer anyone? Do I have any hope of proclaiming a message with any relevance to anyone who does not look and act like me? Not much, I would imagine, not much at all.

There is no doubt, however, a message for me to hear in the passage. I am challenged to listen to hear what is being said and respond. There are 4 ways of listening I would like to touch in the coming weeks. I am going to use all 4 now by way of introduction to come to some understanding of what we are supposed to hear being said to us because we are all alike.

1.  The natural world. God speaks to us through beauty and the marvels of nature. How can the natural world reach out to us about this passage? Perhaps we can just imagine the journey. I pull up an image of the countryside they would pass through as they go from village to village. There are fields with sheep and cattle, vineyards, farms with grain, and other foodstuffs being grown. The sun is shining brightly as you would expect. Maybe there would be some kind of adverse weather to endure as they traveled. I close my eyes and walk with them. I listen to the hard scratch of the gravel crunching beneath my feet. I feel the heat of the sun on my shoulders and smell the smells of fields and soil. I can hear the wind or maybe irritating gronking of ravens calling out from the olive groves. Nature would keep the disciples folded up in its broad arms while they travel. I can let it gather me as well.
2.  Human life. The passage has been weighing on my mind for several days, so I have had time for it to simmer. Perhaps the solution for me is to not think in terms of big changes or life-altering efforts. On Monday I had the need to go downtown to run some errands. As I was returning to my
   
   
   car, I arrived at the corner at the same time as I grizzled, handicapped old guy, wearing torn and tattered clothing and an Aussie style hat so common among defeated Viet Nam war vets. He had a grungy gray beard and unkempt locks of hair escaped from under this hat. He used a cane to help him trudge along. I accidentally made eye contact so I had no choice but to react to him. Shamefully, he was the kind of guy I would try to avoid if I had the choice but, on this day, I was committed. I had to do something. I smiled and greeted him. I held my hand offered to help him step up on the curb gut he waved me away. “I got it,” he said. He stepped up on the curb and started down the street away from me. I did what all good cowards do. I just walked past him, got in the car and drove away. I did not look back then but I have looked multiple times since the moment. The event bothered me. There was more I could have done, should have done, wanted to do but I lacked the insight or will to act. The unsettled feeling tells me I have to do things differently next time. I met the Bishop recently and his words to me echo in my ears. “Go be a missionary to the people of Montana,” he said. He had no interest in hearing about my life contemplation and service at the Sycamore Tree. I realized I was so busy finding ways to say “no” to big ways to be a missionary, I missed the little one right in front of me. Lesson, I hope, learned.
3. Sacred scripture. This scripture reading caused me to listen to the words written as they speak to what is asked me. Not big things, at least not now, but little things I can easily do often. Little things. Hmm. I have heard that before. I think the rest of the sentence is "with great love". Do little things with great
   
   
   love. Of course, Therese of Lisieux said it and they made her a doctor of the church. I guess there is something to the idea of little things with great love. I think I can give that a try.
4. Interior Silence. The words that have escaped the recesses of my mind onto the screen did not just show up. I waited and listened for them to come, for them to point the way to go, for them to give the calm that comes from a resolve to act differently. I let the thoughts, images, ideas, and concepts just roll around like little rocks in a bucket until God’s voice echoed through my heart. Little things with great love. I can do that. I will do that and see where it leads me.

I have reason to go back downtown later this week. Will I have a chance to practice what I have come to accept? Probably not. God does not often allow us the opportunity to be prepared to respond to the opportunities he wants us to consider. If we read the passage again, we will understand, me very reluctantly, we are not to be prepared in advance in order we might trust the Holy Spirit to guide us in every aspect of our mission. Yikes. I will be more alert, however, to what I might discover and I promise I will have the courage to try again. Amen.