Interesting Reflection from Dr. Gregory Popcak on Pope Francis

25 Friday Oct 2013

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Uncategorized

http://www.patheos.com/blogs/faithonthecouch/2013/09/papa-francis-the-prodigal-and-the-good-son/

Papa Francis, The Prodigal, and “the Good Son.”

September 24, 2013 By Dr. Greg 35 Comments

How do you feel about Pope Francis’ style?

I’ve been praying a lot about my reactions to Pope Francis as well the reactions I have read from my fellow Catholic culture warriors. I have friends–sometimes of the more liberal persuasion (but not all)–who think Pope Francis is an incredible breath of fresh air. I have other friends–usually more conservative–who can’t believe how much this guy is, in their minds, stinking up the joint.

Ambivalence Observed

As for me, well, I’ve been ambivalent–and honestly, I’ve been troubled and a little ashamed–of my reactions. In the first place, I have always thought of myself as “the Pope’s man.” I was 11 when Pope John Paul II was elected to the Throne of Peter and 38 when he died. I loved him. I have largely formed my life according to his teachings. I grew up challenging myself to see marriage and family life through the lens of his Theology of the Body and to do my best to both live out and promote the Church’s vision of life and love. The same went for Benedict, who was at least a continuation of JPII’s thinking if not his style. I was fascinated by their minds, intrigued by what I could learn at their feet, and eager to put into practice everything I learned from them, because even though living out their words didn’t necessarily win me any popularity contests by the world’s standards, their counsel taught me how to live a truly blessed life filled with love and faith and joy. Because of all this, I have, as long as I can remember, had a strong appreciation for the office of the pope.

But…

Which is why my reactions to Pope Francis have bothered me so much. On the one hand, I find much to admire. His simplicity. His heart. His genuine love for people. His obvious love for Christ. On the other hand, I have been genuinely put off–sometimes even angered–by a lot of things he has said that, frankly, have made my job harder.

Remember, most of what I do all day in counseling and on the radio is try to help people live out the Catholic vision of love, sex, and marriage. In the last several weeks alone, I have had people challenge me in ways I haven’t encountered before. It used to be that when I made some statement about the Church’s positions on marriage, love and sex, people would accept it. They wouldn’t always like it, but they knew it was true. They knew it was true, because even if they didn’t exactly get it, they knew what I was saying at least sounded like what they heard Pope JPII or Pope Benedict say. But now, all of a sudden, I’m getting a kind-of push back I haven’t experienced before. “Well, the POPE, said…” Or, ”That’s not what Pope FRANCIS said the other day….” As if I haven’t read the same interviews. Then, when I try to explain what the Pope actually said, for the first time, people are accusing me not of trying to faithfully represent Church teaching, but of engaging in “conservative spin.” It’s particularly frustrating for me, because the contexts for these discussions are often not some bar or church basement where I’m having a friendly argument with someone to pass the time, but counseling sessions where marriages and families and lives are at stake. For heaven’s sake, I recently had a client who was struggling with serious faith issues and depression quit counseling with me a few weeks ago because, in his words, “I’m much more of a Pope Francis/Nancy Pelosi Catholic and you’re an old-school, Pope John Paul II Catholic.”

Ouch. How did that sting me? Let me count the ways….

So, yes. I’ve been…disturbed by a lot of what Pope Francis has been saying–or, perhaps more accurately, by how people have too easily been twisting what he has been saying. At the same time, I believe in the papacy. I believe the Holy Spirit has a great deal to do with who sits in the Chair of Peter. I believe that God knows what he is doing in the Church and even if the papal election is a very human process, I believe that God wants to use whomever is elected to teach us–to teach me–something important about being Catholic at this time in history. And so, unlike a lot of other people who have been openly angry about Pope Francis, I have tried to stay quiet, to talk through my feelings with a few mature Christians I trust, and, most importantly, to pray. A lot.

The Return of the Prodigal

The past weekend, God smacked me upside the head with an insight that has been convicting me hard ever since. As I was praying, I was suddenly reminded–or, really, more like slapped in the face with the memory of–the Prodigal Son. Well, not the prodigal son, exactly. That would have been OK. I’m fine being the Prodigal Son. But no. That wasn’t who God was reminding me of. Suddenly, it was like God took my face in his hands and pointed me at a mirror, and I saw…the good son. The good kid who stayed behind, did everything his father told him to do, was probably a little glad to see his annoying, pain-in-the-ass brother leave in the first place, and was more than a little upset to see him come back. You know, the one with the stick up his rear-end whom everyone acknowledges but no one wants to be like.

God showed me that I was being the “good son.” And I heard a voice say, “My lost children are coming home. And you are angry.”

And I remembered the words of the story…

Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. So he called one of the servants and asked him what was going on. ‘Your brother has come,’ he replied, ‘and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.’ The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. But he answered his father, ‘Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!’

And I started to cry.

Convicted

Here, in Francis, my Papa was running out into the street to meet my brothers and sisters who were lost but now found. He was killing the fatted calf and putting the finest robes on them. He was giving them his ring. And here I was, stuck doing the same damn thing I’ve always been doing and getting even less thanks for it. People who left the Church, who hated the Church (and yes, hated and sometimes abused me for loving it), who wouldn’t give the Church a second glance were suddenly realizing that God loved them, that the Church welcomed them, and all I could do was feel bitter about it. Because it was a fricking inconvenience to me. I didn’t feel bitter because I don’t love them. I do. It wasn’t that I don’t want them to know how much they are loved and welcome. I do. But I was bitter because, to be perfectly honest, having to love them the way they are today makes my life harder than I would like it to be. It isn’t enough for me to just make statements and then sit in my rightness and be right. All of a sudden, I have to really listen, to deal with the mess of their lives and put up with–no, actually respect– their “who do you think YOU are?” attitudes. Yes, I loved them, truly, but not enough. Pope Francis was showing me that for all my brave words and self-congratulatory thoughts about my commitment to love my neighbor, I loved my comfort zone a little more than I loved my brother and sister who were coming home after a long time of suffering and loneliness.

And I felt ashamed.

Love and Truth

None of this is to say that the Church’s teachings on love, sex and marriage aren’t true. And I think Pope Francis is showing us this too. Likewise, none of this is to say that I have to pretend that the Church’s vision of life shouldn’t be upheld, taught, and proclaimed boldly. But it is to say that preaching to an empty house, or limiting myself to too easy conversations with only the brothers and sisters who agree with me is useless. I can still have those discussions I love so much, fight for those causes that matter so much, but first I have to get past the pride and joy I get from “being right.” From being “the right kind of Catholic.” From being “the good son.” I have to show my brothers and sisters that I love them–first and always. That I want them sitting next to me even though we don’t see eye-to-eye. I have to be willing to learn from them as much as teach. To acknowledge that they have things to offer me and that I am glad to be related to them even though we make each other uncomfortable sometimes. If I can do that, if I can show them the love that Jesus has truly placed in my heart, then I can have all the family arguments I want–and heck, maybe even win a few of them. But if they don’t feel the love of Jesus radiating out of me, what’s the use in any of it? Without love, I am no prophet. I am just a clanging gong. A noisy cymbal.

I think I’m starting to get it. I think God, through Pope Francis, is reminding me that being right is fine, but I need to be even more committed to love because it is love that wins men’s hearts. It goes back to what Pope Benedict said in Caritas in Veritatem, that taken together, love and truth prevent love from being reduced either to mere sentimentality or fideism. God is reminding me that I still have a way to go before I have mastered that art.

“Everything I Have is Yours…”

I guess I’m still processing all this, but in the last few days, I find myself a lot less disquieted by Pope Francis words and even the ways people are trying to twist them. Let Papa bring my brothers and sisters home. I love them and I will welcome them. And I will be happy to continue the family arguments with them, because now that they are coming back home, I can.

Finally, to all my brothers and sisters who are also my fellow “good sons and daughters” who feel as if their legs have been cut out from underneath them as the very people Pope Francis is running to meet accept his love but twist his words, perhaps we can all take a little comfort along with God’s conviction as we meditate on the Father’s words to the good son at the end of the story.

“‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours.”

And more importantly, perhaps we “good sons and daughters” in the family can yet find a place in our hearts for our returning brothers and sisters and even happily join the party our Papa is throwing for them.

So Many Churches, Too Little Time

22 Tuesday Oct 2013

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Churches

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Francis Xavier, HolySpirit, Saint Louis University

Wow, it’s been over a month since I last contributed to Reflections of a Lay Catholic. I’ve been a bit busy and have been traveling for business and, I guess you could say, pleasure, as well. The business stuff is pretty boring but I am going to share some relevant experiences from those so-called pleasure trips.

I mentioned in a previous blog post that my youngest daughter, Grace, is a senior in high school and is trying to discern where she will spend the next four or five years of her life. She is a rather independent young woman and has no issues about attending a college far from our home in Ohio. Some schools under consideration are Mississippi State University, the University of Washington (Seattle), and Saint Louis University, St. Louis, Missouri. In the last couple months we have traveled to ten universities for college visits and made quick drive-throughs at a couple more.

Four weekends ago we combined a college visit to Indiana University in Bloomington, Indiana on Friday followed by a visit to Champaign, Illinois on Saturday to the University of Illinois for a U of I versus Miami of Ohio football game. My oldest daughter, Sara, is a graduate of Miami and her new husband, Andy, is a graduate of U of I and they came back to Illinois from Seattle for the game. Andy is from Peoria, Illinois and we met up with him and Sara, and his family for the game. Afterwards, Andy gave Grace and the rest of us a tour of the University of Illinois campus. The part relevant to this post is that before we left town on Sunday morning to head home we attended mass at St. Patrick’s Church of Merna near Bloomington, Illinois. It was a new, modern, very nice and large church surrounded by cornfields on the outskirts of Bloomington.

St. Patrick’s Catholic Church of Merna

There was nothing particularly out of the ordinary or special about attending mass at St. Patrick’s other than the usual pleasure of experiencing the nuances from one church to the next. The Gloria and the Alleluia were to different tunes but I’ve come to expect them to be different because they have been different at every one of the many churches I’ve attended this year. But, regardless of the differences or similarities, taking time to attend mass while on the road in out-of-the-way communities is, to me, a blessing in disguise. The unique ambiance at each church, the previously unheard voices of the lectors and cantors, and the unfamiliar cadence of the priest or deacon delivering the homily, all capture your attention and I feel I receive a special grace, a feeling that the Holy Spirit is especially present in my heart.

Such was the case the following weekend on another trip to yet another college campus. We scheduled a visit to Washington University in St. Louis for Monday, 7 October. We decided to combine it with a visit to my parents in southeast Missouri on Saturday and Sunday before heading to St. Louis on Sunday evening. Rather than attend mass at the small church in my home town we decided to attend the 9:00 p.m. mass at St. Francis Xavier College Church on the campus of St. Louis University. We arrived at St. Francis Xavier and, upon parking the car, this was my view of the church. What a beauty!

St. Francis Xavier Church, St. Louis, MO

We entered the church about twenty minutes early and we were awed by the grandeur of its interior. This wasn’t any old church – in my opinion it was a cathedral by no stretch of the imagination. After marveling at the interior architecture I was struck by the two lines of students waiting their turn for reconciliation. I’m talking students, now, ages eighteen to twenty-two. Not something you see every day! We selected a pew towards the rear of the church and as the clock ticked down the church began to fill up with students. Busting-at-the-seams-wall-to-wall students!

St. Francis Xavier Church, St. Louis, MO

By the time mass began I estimated there to be well over 1,000 students in attendance. There was a student choir situated behind the altar with the musical accompaniment of a couple guitars. The music was upbeat and clear but by no means was it a rock concert. All rituals were sung with the exception of the Our Father and the music and words were all illustrated in the bulletin that was distributed upon entering the church. There was no mumbling – the congregation sang loudly and clearly and it was a beautiful noise. It was obvious there were many students who were non-Catholics. Two young women sitting directly in front of us knew all the words to the rituals and participated in every way a Catholic would participate except for when they walked to the altar. Instead of receiving communion they crossed their arms and asked to be blessed. When it came time to say the Our Father, students moved out of their pews and into the aisles creating a connected chain of hands from one side of the church to the other. At the Sign of Peace students walked up and down the aisles finding friends upon whom they particularly wanted to wish the Peace of the Lord. It was simply an awesome sight to behold. I found myself grinning from ear to ear and working hard to hold back what I wasn’t sure would be either laughter or tears of happiness. I looked at my wife and could tell she was feeling the same way. I think even Grace, in all her stoicism, was appreciative of the moment. Upon exiting the church I couldn’t help but feel tremendously blessed to have been a part of something so special, and, for most parishes, so unusual, in what was one of the most beautiful churches I had ever attended mass. And to think this happens every Sunday night! I told Gracie I wouldn’t mind at all if she decides to attend St. Louis University. I would come visit her just so we can go to mass together!

There are many things I would have done around the house and at work over the last two months. But spending time with my wife and daughter, traveling between and checking out colleges, visiting new churches along the way, and connecting with the Holy Spirit in unfamiliar surroundings has made the extra effort required upon returning home all the more worthwhile.

We have one more trip to make this month – to Lake Charles, Louisiana to visit our daughter, Mary. While there we will make a return visit to our old home church, the Immaculate Conception Cathedral in Lake Charles, another beautiful church. Stay tuned for a post in a couple weeks! In the meantime, take time to go and check out another church in a town near to, or far from, you and see how it feels. Check back in and let me know.

God Bless You All.

Reflections on Daily Mass

23 Monday Sep 2013

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Uncategorized

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Mass

The requirement to attend mass on Sundays and holy days of obligation is the first precept of the Catholic Faith:

“You shall attend Mass on Sundays and on holy days of obligation and rest from servile labor” requires the faithful to sanctify the day commemorating the Resurrection of the Lord as well as the principal liturgical feasts honoring the mysteries of the Lord, the Blessed Virgin Mary, and the saints; in the first place, by participating in the Eucharistic celebration, in which the Christian community is gathered, and by resting from those works and activities which could impede such a sanctification of these days. (2042)

About 2 years ago, I began to faithfully fulfill this minimal obligation. Prior to that, I did attend mass frequently, but if I missed every now and then, it was OK with me. In fact, I used to volunteer to stay home with the twins when they were much younger so that my wife and oldest daughter could go to mass in peace. Wasn’t that nice of me? Anyway, it wasn’t that I hated going to mass, I just didn’t “enjoy” myself. I was like many who believed that the mass was about me and my needs rather than an opportunity to “commemorate the resurrection of the Lord.” If I wasn’t entertained or didn’t “get anything out of it,” I didn’t see the point in attending. However, thanks to several blessings, not the least of which is the example shown by my wife, I rediscovered the true meaning of the mass and don’t miss a Sunday, even on vacation. I even sacrificed by attending an evening mass once at a neighboring parish which has a showy band for its music. I really don’t like it when I attend a mass and a rock concert breaks out. But that is a topic for another time. Weekly mass has become, for me, an opportunity to worship our Lord and receive the gift of the Eucharist. I now get as much from the weekly mass as I put into it and it is such a blessing to attend every week.

After I started to understand the mass and all its gifts, I would occasionally attend a weekday mass at either St. Francis de Sales in Lebanon or at St. Peter in Chains Cathedral in downtown Cincinnati, close to my office at UC. I actually made my first confession in 30 years to a priest at the Cathedral so it will always have a special place in my heart. I attended daily mass when the mood struck me but with no consistency or compelling urge to do so. However, just over 9 weeks ago I looked at my calendar for the week and saw two glorious things. First, my boss was out of town all week. Second, because she was out of town, all my morning meetings were cancelled. I decided on the spur of the moment that I would attend daily mass every day that week and see how I liked it.

During that week I attended the 7 a.m. mass at St. Gertrude church in Madeira. I was surprised by how many people were at mass. There were probably over 30 people every day, mostly the same ones day after day. The next week, I decided to continue morning mass but was challenged one day with a meeting away from my office that interfered with 7 a.m. mass. Using www.masstimes.org, I found a church near my meeting location that had a 6:30 a.m. mass. I went there instead that day and returned to St. Gertrude for the rest of the week. I next found that I could still get to mass before a 7 a.m. meeting if I went to 6 a.m. mass at St. Xavier in downtown Cincinnati. I figured, “what kind of nut goes to 6 a.m. mass in the middle of the week?” Evidently, there are about 25-35 nuts who get up that early every day and I had become one of them.

After I figured out that I could leave my house by 6:15 every day and still get to the Cathedral before 7 a.m., I have consistently attended mass there along with the same 20-25 people. There is the women who reads the entrance and communion antiphons every day. There is the guy who always comes in with his backpack and the lady with her rustling Wal-Mart bags. There is the woman who wears a mantilla, sits right up front and, for some reason, holds a small doll throughout the mass. They are all there, every day, worshipping God through the mass.

There are all kinds of ways to build your relationship with God. I have found that attending daily mass has brought me closer to Him and is a great way to start my day. Try it for a week and let me know what you think.

Because He Can

18 Wednesday Sep 2013

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Churches, Faith

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Charity, God-moments, Grace

Over the last couple months I have shared with you some occasions where I have sensed God coming into my life unexpectedly. I call them “God Moments”. I mentioned last week in reply to one of the comments to my post The Cradle of Faith in Ohio that I seem to recognize these God Moments when they occur because I’ve come to expect them and I’m on the lookout for them. It’s kind of like:

Matthew 7:7 – “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.”

Some folks may call them mere coincidences or concurrences. I won’t deny coincidences may happen but, the more of these unexplained situations I observe, I believe there is more to them than their being random occurrences of chance. Sometimes they may have elements of Divine Providence that are intended to guide us, and sometimes they are simply gentle reminders that He is here. Sometimes they are profound experiences that hit you up-side the head, and sometimes they are subtle inspirations that leave you wondering if He is having a nice belly laugh at our expense. I think I got a dose of all of these this last weekend.

You tell me.

My wife and I drove our youngest daughter from our home in Ohio to Knoxville, Tennessee on Saturday morning for a campus visit and open house at the University of Tennessee. She’s a senior and trying to decide what field of study to pursue and at which university she would prefer to continue her education. After a four hour drive and four hours of walking the UT campus we hopped back in the car and headed southwest towards Starkville, Mississippi for a tour at Mississippi State University on Monday. In setting up this trip I knew it would be a long day on Saturday and considered where to spend Saturday night. Finally, checking distances and reasonable times of arrival, I settled on something in Birmingham, Alabama. I prefer to stay at hotels in one particular family of hotels and so, when I got on-line to check for accommodations, I found over a dozen possibilities in the Birmingham area. As an afterthought, it occurred to me that the parents of my future son-in-law (fiancé of my second oldest daughter), whose parents we had not yet met, lived on the south side of Birmingham. So, I selected a hotel near the interstate just south of downtown in hopes that we could perhaps meet up with them (which we actually had the pleasure of doing). We wanted to attend Mass on Sunday morning, 15 September, so I logged onto masstimes.org to find a church near us. There were a half dozen or so not too far away but we chose Our Lady of Sorrows in Homewood, Alabama, that had an 8:30 a.m. Mass which would be convenient to our schedule. It was close to Samford University where we thought we might mosey around after Mass and still give us time to meet up with my future son-in-law’s parents.

We received a friendly welcome as we entered Our Lady of Sorrows and were pleased to see the congregation nearly filling the church. Some of the tunes were different from those to which we were accustomed, and the homily was a little long, but I’ve come to expect those small differences from church to church. Mass ended and we departed the church and as we walked out the front door my wife looked up at a younger man, about six feet six and in his early forties and said, “Are you Matthew Montegut?”, to which the tall, younger man replied, “Yes, I am, and you are Melinda Robinson!” I finally recognized him as an older version of the skinny kid I used to see playing basketball in the driveway next door to my in-law’s house in Houston, Texas when I was dating my wife over thirty years ago. Our paths had probably not crossed in over twenty-five years and here we were together at the same place and same time. This was the church he and his family regularly attended. Coincidence? Maybe. But when you consider all the possibilities, the what-ifs and choices of options randomly selected throughout the process of deciding to be at that place at that exact time, the odds are astronomical. Especially if they are combined with all the possibilities from which Matthew may have had to choose to be there at the same time. I don’t think it was coincidence. I think it was more of a case where God, with a sense of humor, needed a good chuckle and answered my question of, “Why did this happen?” with a response of, “Because I can.”

Our Lady of Sorrows Catholic Church, Homewood, AL
– Photo courtesy of Google Images

Let’s rewind a couple days. On Friday I received an email from a friend telling me the next meeting of the committee for a particular ministry in which I am interested at church would be next Tuesday. I had missed the last few meetings and I really wanted to attend this one because I feel called to this particular ministry. The problem this time was that I already had plans to attend parent night at my daughter’s high school. I have always tried to do whatever I could to be there for my children and attend functions to support them, and this would be my last opportunity to do so. Many times throughout the day Saturday, from Ohio to Knoxville to Birmingham, I found myself pondering what I ought to do: attend the committee meeting or attend the parent meeting at school. I wanted to do both but obviously I couldn’t. When I knelt at the beginning of Mass at Our Lady of Sorrows, I said a typical prayer that would make author Matthew Kelly proud, “Lord, help me to see in this Mass the one thing that will make me a better version of myself.” I previously mentioned the long homily. The reason it was long was because it was that time of year for this parish to appeal to its congregation to support Catholic charities through giving of their Time, Talent and Treasure. Now, had this been like any other Sunday, the homily would have been related to the readings, in this case about Jesus welcoming sinners. But, no, it was spot on the very thing about which I had been worrying, whether or not to give of my time. And, during the homily it was revealed to me that, since my daughter is a senior, she probably doesn’t care one whit if I attend parent night at school or not, but that my time may be of more significant value if I attend the committee meeting and participate in the ministry. Coincidence? I don’t think so. No, I think this was Divine Providence, God’s hand gently guiding me in the direction I need to go. (By the way, I attended the meeting last night and I’m glad I did. And, when I told my daughter I was not going to attend the event at school she said, “That’s just fine with me, Dad!”)

Stained Glass Window at Our Lady of Sorrows Catholic Church
– Photo courtesy of Google Images

One last thing-

When I was at Our Lady of Sorrows I totally forgot to snap a picture of the church. I was too stunned after meeting up with Matthew Montegut. So, yesterday as I was forming this post in my mind I went on-line to Google Images to see if there might be a photo or two of the church. But, I goofed with my first try and instead of searching Google Images I just searched on Google. The first thing to pop up was a Wikipedia entry for Our Lady of Sorrows. This wasn’t what I was looking for but it caught my interest and I opened the site and read a bit. I read and pretty soon I had a grin from ear to ear. I learned that in 1913 Pope Pius X declared the Liturgical Feast of Our Lady of Sorrows to be, henceforth and forever more, on the fifteenth day of September of each year, the very day I happened to attend Our Lady of Sorrows church in Homewood, Alabama. Coincidence? Again, I don’t think so. I think God, with his arm around my shoulder, was lovingly telling me, “I Do because I Can. Have faith in Me.”

What do you think?

I can’t make this stuff up, folks.

A friend and follower commented in Bolo Ties, Rosaries and Rainbows , “My blessed mother, God rest her soul, always said that you get special blessings when you visit a church for the first time.” After visiting Our Lady of Sorrows, I’m thinking my friend’s mother knew what she was talking about.

I’d love to hear your thoughts and any special “God Moments” you might want to share.

Good night and God Bless.

The Cradle of Faith in Ohio

10 Tuesday Sep 2013

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Churches, Eucharistic Adoration, Prayer

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Eucharistic Adoration, Prayer

“Even a blind hog finds an acorn every now and then.”

I wish I could remember from whom I heard that adage some thirty plus years ago. It had to have been a wise old man who’s long gone by now. It’s the way I felt today, like the blind hog finding a wonderful acorn.

For seven years I have been traveling once or twice a month to a satellite office just south of Somerset, Ohio (ESE of Columbus about an hour). And each of those 100 or so times I have traveled the same route to and from that office. But, this morning there was construction on Highway 22 going east into Somerset so I decided to take a different route coming home. Instead of turning left out of the gate I turned right and, like in Robert Frost’s poem, The Road Not Taken, “I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.” I popped over the first hill only about a half mile from my office and approached the intersection with OH Rte. 383. I looked to my right to see if any traffic was approaching when I saw, towering over a clump of trees, a tall church tower. It appeared old and was constructed of red brick. Interested, I turned right instead of left, and drove the few hundred yards to where I could get a better view. The church sat back from the road about 200 yards and was perched on a rather high knoll with a winding driveway up to the church. Next to the highway was a graveled area in front of the tree covered hill leading up to the church with a sign proclaiming this to be St. Joseph’s Church, the oldest Catholic Church in Ohio, Founded 1818.

There was also a sign installed by the Ohio Historical Society which read,

FIRST CATHOLIC CHURCH IN OHIO

St. Joseph Church, “Cradle of the Faith in Ohio”, was the first Catholic Church in the state. Dominican Father, Edward Fenwick, later the first bishop of Cincinnati, came from Kentucky to visit local Catholics for the first time in 1808. Led by Jacob Dittoe, six Catholic families bought this half section of land and built an 18 by 22 foot log church. Dittoe deeded the 320 acres to Fenwick, who blessed the church on December 6, 1818. Located near Zane’s Trace, the church attracted German, Irish and Alsatia Catholic settlers and became the mission center for southern and central Ohio. The present structure, the third on the site, was dedicated in 1843 and rebuilt in 1866 after an 1864 fire.

Here was this beautiful church, sitting on a tree covered hill surrounded by nothing but corn fields, with the hamlet of Somerset being the nearest cluster of civilization about six miles to the north. I felt as though I had just unearthed a lost treasure.

St. Joseph’s Church near Somerset, OH

I was intrigued. I love old churches and I needed to see if St. Joseph’s was open for a look-see inside. I pulled up into a circle drive at the foot of a long flight of stairs to the front door and parked. After climbing the stairs I was actually surprised to find the huge wooden front door slightly ajar. With anticipation I pulled the door open and poked my head inside. It was beautiful! Painted vaulted ceilings supported by huge pillars extended the full length from front to back. Beautiful, intricate stained glass windows lined both sides of the church. There were about twenty pews per side, each of which would sit about eight to ten worshipers. A huge pipe organ graced the loft in the back of the church over the entrance. All the pews were solid oak (no veneer in this place!) as was the hardwood floor and the altar, chairs, ambo, and carved, arched screens on either side of the altar separating the choir areas. And, I had it all to myself.

St. Joseph’s Church, near Somerset OH

Today is Tuesday. To put what happened next into context, let me back up and describe what’s been going on in my life the last few days. Last Thursday I had knee surgery so I was off work on Friday. I took that opportunity to post Finding Grace through Eucharistic Adoration. On Saturday morning I went to Mass and did my hour of Adoration with the Eucharist exposed. On Sunday after Mass, I had brunch with Fr. Sean Davidson who has been visiting our parish to help us establish Perpetual Eucharistic Adoration. On Monday evening, I attended a meeting to organize those same efforts, again with Fr. Sean. So, it was no surprise for me, then, upon finding myself alone in this magnificent old historical church, to decide to spend my lunch hour in Eucharistic Adoration. The bronze tabernacle was in its place behind the altar and the red candle was burning signifying the Blessed Host was in its home.

I took a seat in the front pew on Mary’s side such that I could kneel on my left knee and still be able to keep my right leg extended. It was so quiet. Aside from the constant tinnitus in my ears and my own breathing, there was total silence. If there was any traffic on the highway, I was far enough off the road not to hear it. Once or twice I heard the old structure creak. It was just me and Jesus. I gave thanks and prayed for His help. I prayed for grace for our parish in our efforts to establish Eucharistic Adoration. I prayed for my family, for friends who are struggling, for the unborn and new parents to be, for peace in the Middle East and for guidance to our nation’s, and other nations’, leaders with respect to the looming conflict escalation in Syria, for peace and comfort to all those who remember and were affected by the tragedy in New York City twelve years ago tomorrow. I didn’t have my bible but I had my cell phone so I called up my app and read today’s readings from Colossians (Col 2:6-15) and Luke (Lk 6:12-19) and meditated on them. I had never read Colossians before so I read all four chapters. And then I just sat there in silence and listened and experienced the peace and solitude of being in the presence of Christ. It was a beautiful thing. In the hour and ten minutes I was there I didn’t see or hear another soul.

This experience was truly a “God Moment”, one of those times when God comes into your life unexpectedly. I almost didn’t go to Somerset this morning because of my knee still not being fully functional. If it hadn’t been for the road construction I would have taken the route I’ve taken scores of times before. No, this was definitely a God Moment, these things were meant to happen today. I was meant to discover St. Joseph’s Church, the oldest Catholic Church in Ohio, the “Cradle of the Faith in Ohio.”

Finding Grace through Eucharistic Adoration

07 Saturday Sep 2013

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Eucharistic Adoration, Prayer

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

Blessed Sacrament, Eucharist, Eucharistic Adoration, Jesus, Prayer

Back in July when I drove my car solo from Cincinnati, Ohio to my daughter’s wedding in Seattle, Washington, a drive of 2,640 miles over 40 hours of driving in four days, I posted thoughts, observances and inspirations on Reflections of a Lay Catholic each day. It had been years since I had made a drive like this on my own and, even though I would miss my wife and youngest daughter (who were flying to Seattle), I was looking forward to it immensely. Mainly I was looking forward to the quiet time, the absence of work and other responsibilities that tend to fill up my life. And, at some point it dawned on me that it would be a good opportunity for me, in my new found faith, to try to get closer to Jesus, to spend some one-on-one time with Him. After three days of driving and blogging about: attending Masses at the Cathedral Basilica in St. Louis, Missouri, St. Joseph’s Cathedral in Sioux Falls, South Dakota (including confession), and St. Therese the Little Flower church in Rapid City, South Dakota; the inspiring and friendly people I met at each church; praying the Rosary for the first time on my own, and seeing the beautiful countryside that is God’s creation, I felt I needed to explain why I was praying my way across America. So, in my post from day three, Bolo Ties, Rosaries and Rainbows, I explained that there were many people in my life who needed my prayers, one of which was my wife who would soon be having breast cancer surgery. And, I explained, that I tend to do my best praying, or at least it seems that way to me, while I am in church. I found, too, that the prolonged absences of distraction while I was behind the wheel allowed me to continue that praying throughout the day. A friend and follower, when reading that I was enjoying this alone time with Jesus, astutely claimed that it may very well have been that my whole trip unfolded in this way because He needed some alone time with me!

Don’t you love it when something simple gets turned around and you discover something even more beautiful than what you originally had?

In another recent post I mentioned how praying is something I’m still getting used to doing. I’m satisfied with the frequency but it’s the content that needs some work. I tend to ramble. I need to be more succinct so I can fit it all in when I only have a short amount of time. I have found, though, that my time in prayer is tremendously more satisfying, with less pressure on myself to “perform”, when I schedule to spend a full hour in Eucharistic Adoration once a week.

Before I go any farther, I realize there may be a few non-Catholics reading this and they may not have a good grasp of the significance of the Eucharist in our faith. So, let me say a few words about that. Catholics believe the bread and wine, the consecrated Hosts, are actually the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Christ. While many Christian denominations have a service that commemorates the Last Supper, with some distributing bread and wine (or grape juice) as a symbol, it is our belief that the Eucharist (the Blessed Body and Blood) is the real presence of Christ. The basis for this belief is found in Matthew 26:26-28:

“While they were eating, Jesus took bread, said the blessing, broke it, and giving it to his disciples said, ‘Take and eat; this is my body.’ Then he took a cup, gave thanks, and gave it to them, saying, ‘Drink from it, all of you, for this is my blood of the covenant, which will be shed on behalf of many for the forgiveness of sins.’”

So, what is Eucharistic Adoration you ask? Well, let’s say that while receiving the Eucharist during Communion at Mass is the best way to personally experience Christ within our parish community, Eucharistic Adoration gives us the opportunity to be with Him up close and personal, or one-on-one. We can experience this in two ways. The Consecrated Hosts reserved from the previous Mass are kept in the tabernacle, usually a small, ornate enclosure with a locking door resting on a table behind the altar. The easiest and most common form of Eucharistic Adoration is to stop by church at any time and genuflect (kneel) facing the tabernacle and acknowledge Christ’s presence.

A typical tabernacle

The second way, and in my opinion the most profound and satisfying way, is when the Blessed Sacrement is removed from the tabernacle and exposed for adoration in a monstrance, a sculpture with a glass enclosure that reveals the Host. Like the first example, adoration is accomplished by genuflecting in Christ’s presence and it is usually done for an hour. What is significant about an hour, you ask? Well, that comes from when Jesus, after agonizing in the Garden of Gethsemane, finds his disciples sleeping. Upon waking them He asks Peter, “So you could not keep watch with me for one hour?” – Matthew 26:40.

Poor Peter, he couldn’t seem to get anything right. Sometimes I feel like him. Do you?

Pope Francis I with a monstrance

The glory of Eucharistic Adoration is best described in the words of Blessed Pope John Paul II, “The Eucharist is a priceless treasure: by not only celebrating it (at Mass) but also by praying before it outside of Mass we are enabled to make contact with the very wellspring of grace…We must understand that in order ‘to do’, we must first learn ‘to be’, that is to say, in the sweet company of Jesus in adoration.”

I have had the opportunity on two occasions to spend an hour in adoration when the Blessed Sacrament was exposed. Both of those instances were during Christ Renews His Parish retreat weekends. But, this summer, I have spent several more hours on Saturday mornings in adoration, when the Eucharist was not exposed, as a time for sacrificial prayer in support of our church’s Adult Faith Formation group. One of the group’s responsibilities is to bring Perpetual Eucharistic Adoration back to the parish and in support of that effort we each take a day to fast and one hour a week to pray in adoration before the tabernacle. Our prayers are for help and encouragement to the parish community to discover the glory of adoration and for their participation. In order to have a successful program for a 24/7/365 Perpetual Eucharistic Adoration about 450 people are needed to participate.

Regardless of the reason I am in adoration, I always feel a sense of calmness, of comfort, and my thoughts come to me more clearly. I find when I am spilling my guts to, or just having a casual one-sided conversation with, Jesus, my words flow much easier than at any other time of prayer. Sometimes I am quiet and just soak up being in His presence. In author Kathleen Carroll’s words, “The best kind of friend is the one with whom you can spend time without having to say anything. You can just share the moment and enjoy each other’s company, knowing your relationship is deeper than the spoken word. That kind of silent communication is what takes place between you and Jesus when you participate in Eucharistic Adoration.”

The first couple times I spent an hour in adoration I knelt the whole time and actually spent the whole hour having a one-sided conversation with Jesus. That was hard to do, especially for an old man’s arthritic knees. And I would run out of things to say so I would repeat myself which made me feel a little stupid. After the second time, though, I observed other adorers spending about half their time kneeling and the other half sitting. I asked and learned that this was okay and that it was okay to not spend the entire hour in prayer. It is okay to spend time simply gazing at the Host, soaking up being in the presence of Jesus. It is okay to sit and consider the life of Christ and what He might say to you in light of your circumstances in life. It is okay to just sit and listen. Listen for that still small voice, that bit of clarity that will give you the direction for which you’ve been searching. It’s okay to bring your bible and read passages from it, or your prayer book from which you might recite some prayers special to the moment. And, I have found the more I spend that one hour a week in the presence of Jesus I tend to agree more and more with Mother Teresa’s sentiments, “The time you spend with Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament is the best time you will spend on earth. Each moment that you spend with Jesus will deepen your union with Him and make your soul everlastingly more glorious and beautiful in Heaven, and will help bring about everlasting peace on earth.”

Most adults I know are married, have a significant other, and/or have children. Imagine the sadness we would have if we couldn’t spend at least one hour a week with the ones we love more than any others on earth. Then, imagine the ridiculousness of accepting that it would be okay to not schedule at least one hour a week to devote to the one’s you love the most. Now convey those thoughts over to our relationship with Christ. Can we not spend one hour per week getting to know Him better and letting Him help us get to know ourselves better? By doing so, will we not be able to love our families and friends here on earth more fully?

Some of you reading this might be from someplace far away from my home parish in Ohio. If so, and your parish offers the opportunity for Perpetual Eucharistic Adoration, I hope you will find it in yourself to give it a try. If your parish doesn’t, try to find one nearby that does and give it a try. I believe you will be amazed at the deeper devotion to Jesus you will experience. Then bring it back to your own parish. For those of you reading this who are in my home parish, I ask that you consider joining us in our effort to establish Perpetual Adoration and become one of the 450 people needed to make it become a reality. We are hosting Fr. Sean Davidson of the Missionaries of the Most Holy Eucharist this weekend and he will be giving brief homilies about the beauty of Eucharistic Adoration at each Mass followed by a mission talk next Tuesday. Please join us. I believe you will find, as Fr. Davidson says, “The adoration of Jesus in the Eucharist also leads to greater reverence at Mass, a deeper desire for personal holiness, and a stronger sense of union with the parish and the whole Church.”

When we get this off the ground, my hour is going to be from 5:00 until 6:00 a.m. on Monday mornings. You’re welcome to come join me.

Good night and God Bless.

The Light of Hope in Christian Community

20 Tuesday Aug 2013

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Faith, Hope, Love, Prayer

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Faith, Hope, Love, Prayer

Light of Hope

It’s been almost four weeks since my last post. Much has transpired since then and it’s been a roller coaster of emotions at times. In The Other Side of Prayer Requests, I left you hanging with the news that someone special to me had been diagnosed with a disease that would require surgery the next day, and that I had asked friends and family to pray for us. I probably should not have been quite so vague but I suppose I was holding on to that last shred of privacy. The rest of the story eventually came out when I replied to comments posted by friends. In case you missed that thread, that special someone was my wife, Melinda, who was diagnosed with breast cancer and had to have a lumpectomy on 24 July, our thirty-first wedding anniversary.

Ever since she was diagnosed on 31 May, I had been praying for her healing harder than I had ever prayed for anything in my short history of praying. Although the lump was small, we didn’t know if the cancer may have spread or if it was localized. My biggest fear was that cancer cells would be found in her lymph nodes, indicating a spread that would require chemotherapy. So, when I asked others, or they offered, to pray for her, I asked specifically for prayers that no cancer would be found in her lymph nodes. Personally, I prayed that when the final pathology report came back they would find no cancer at all and she would be pronounced “cancer-free”.

In spite of my praying, both Melinda and I had an uncanny feeling of optimism, that everything was going to be alright, that all the prayers being registered on her behalf from a legion of experienced prayer warriors were being heard. As I mentioned, we had “a confident assurance from an entire faith community who seemed to be saying they had inside information.” I also took comfort in a passage from a book of daily reflections by St. Augustine:

“Be assured that all your diseases will be healed. Have no fear. You may say that your diseases are powerful; but this physician is more powerful. There is no disease that the Almighty Physician cannot cure. Just allow yourself to be healed and do not reject His healing hands. He knows what He is doing.” – Commentary on Psalm 72

So, cutting to the chase, Melinda had her surgery on Wednesday and the early report was there was no cancer found in the lymph nodes, nor in the marginal tissue around the tumor. But, we had to wait until the following Monday before the official pathology report was completed. That was a long and anxious five days. On Monday we received the news that, indeed, no cancer was found in her lymph nodes, nor the marginal tissue around the tumor…. and none in the tumor itself! This was precisely what I had been praying for. Praise God!

My intention with this post is not for it to be a play by play of my wife’s surgery. Rather, it is a testament to the power of Christian Community. It is difficult for me to describe the way we felt about the tremendous support, caring and prayers we received during this ordeal. There is no doubt in my mind we would have been unable to sustain such strong confidence, such unwavering faith in the healing power of prayer had we gone it alone and not reached out to our community of friends and family, people who care for and love us, and asked them for their prayers. The outpouring of love and the demonstration of faith from everyone gave us something special – it gave us hope. And, I believe, it was this powerful combination of practicing the three theological virtues that brought about the miracle of a clean and cancer-free diagnosis for Melinda.

I had heard witnesses about Christian Community from men on the Christ Renews retreats on which I had been. But, especially for someone like me who is new to this life, you don’t know what you don’t know until your eyes are opened by a personal experience. I witnessed so many examples of love and caring I feel compelled and obligated to mention some of them:

To all those who prayed with an intensity honed by years of practice that I can only hope to achieve one day; to those who went the extra mile and sacrificed and fasted on Melinda’s behalf, who prayed Rosaries and Novenas specifically for the two of us, I give you my utmost gratitude.

We had a promising indication that all would be well when the surgeon surprised us and asked us to pray with him for healing and for God to guide him during the procedure.

I was overwhelmed with the caring and love expressed by so many asking how Melinda’s surgery went and how she was recovering. It was honest, look-you-straight-in-the-eye concern followed by sincere hugs borne of relief. Your love was truly felt by both of us.

To Melinda’s sister, Carol, who traveled from Texas to be here for both moral and physical support for Melinda, our daughter Grace, and me, many thanks, you were a God-send.

A special group of people took it upon themselves to unselfishly prepare dinners for us during the two weeks between Melinda’s surgery and the completion of her two-a-day radiation treatments. Thank you all for the plentiful and delicious meals, they were wonderful and so welcome! I still plan to hit you up for the recipes.

For someone who is both unfamiliar and uncomfortable with receiving so much love and assistance from others I have been totally humbled by the overwhelming support and encouragement to open up and share my emotions instead of keeping them bottled up inside me. Your prayers not only helped heal Melinda, they also healed me.

One thing that helped me open up and receive this kindness was understanding and acceptance of another bit of advice given by St. Augustine:

“For when we are harassed by poverty, saddened by bereavement, ill, or in pain, let good friends visit us. Let them be persons who not only can rejoice with those who rejoice but can weep with those who weep. Let them be persons who know how to give useful advice and how to win us to express our own feelings in conversation. – (Letter 130)

To close, please accept mine and Melinda’s gratitude for your gifts of prayer for her healing. And, specifically from me, please know my appreciation for your example of Christian Community by showing this neophyte how to shine the Light of Hope as suggested by our Lord, Jesus Christ:

“You are the salt of the earth. But what good is salt if it has lost its flavor? Can you make it salty again? It will be thrown out and trampled underfoot as worthless. You are the light of the world – like a city on a hilltop that cannot be hidden. No one lights a lamp and then puts it under a basket. Instead, a lamp is placed on a stand, where it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your good deeds shine out for all to see, so that everyone will praise your heavenly Father. – Matthew 5:13-16

God Bless you and thank you for being our Light of Hope.

The Other Side of Prayer Requests

23 Tuesday Jul 2013

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Love, Prayer

≈ 14 Comments

Tags

Community, Prayer

Back on 15 April my friend and co-contributor, Rich Brewers, posted How We Respond to Prayer Requests. His post came just two weeks after my official conversion and entry into the Church. I admit that, subsequent to reading his thoughts, praying for others was an action for which I only had about a year’s experience. I simply didn’t know how to pray prior to the singular event which led to my decision to become Catholic. Any prayers I might have intended to offer before this time really couldn’t be considered to be much more than best wishes.

That event was my first Christ Renews His Parish retreat weekend. During the weekend I had the opportunity to pray for others and be prayed over by others. Not really knowing how to do the former, I chose to do the latter. I had a compelling reason. I had just returned the night before from an Easter week visit with family in Missouri. My sister has a 14 year old daughter who is both mentally and physically handicapped. With every visit I would leave saddened knowing that their struggles in life are incomprehensible to me, and frustrated that I didn’t know what I could do about it. This had bothered me for a long time and, so, even though I barely knew these men, I asked them for their prayers for my niece, my sister, and for myself. One of the men praying for me was Jim, the gentleman Rich referred to in his post. I sat in the chair with his and other men’s hands on me and they prayed for the three of us. In my heart I felt something happen in that chapel. I wasn’t sure what it was but it was certainly nothing I had ever experienced before. I was shaken. I thought maybe it was simply the sincerity and love of these fine men. But, I came to realize it was the Holy Spirit working through them. It was such a powerful experience I decided to stick around and participate in the prayers for other men. I’m not sure I can describe the feeling other than to say I found a tremendous sense of fulfillment in doing so.

I believe one of the most difficult obstacles to asking others to pray for you is the fear of appearing weak or of lacking control. What other obstacles might prevent you from asking someone else for their prayers for you?

Since that experience I have had several opportunities to pray for other people both with and without their requests. I’m still not very good at it but I think I’m getting better. I try to pay attention and learn from role models, like Jim and Rich, who make it seem so easy. I’ve also learned that, like golf, to get better at praying you have to spend more time praying. Thus, I usually have two or three intentions on my list at all times and I pray for them daily. I find deep satisfaction in this. Although I may not always see any direct results which can be attributed to my prayers, I have faith they are being heard and the intended recipient will be affected in some positive way. And, somewhat selfishly, I find my time in prayer, even for others, allows me to get closer to Jesus.

But, there is another side to prayer requests – the side of requesting people to pray for you and your loved ones. It’s not as easy as you might think it would be. In many ways, it’s more difficult than responding to prayer requests from others. Such was my case. Up until about a month ago, I had been focused on praying for the needs of others. I never really considered that I would have another significant reason to request their prayers. But, then, one never expects the person whom you love the most to become ill with a disease that requires surgery and further treatment. We discovered what a scary proposition it really is. When we got the news, we, like many folks, thought we would keep it to ourselves. No need to burden others with our situation, right? We thought we might tell one or two people who ought to know. But, then, we decided that sooner or later those one or two people would feel the need to tell someone else and eventually everyone who you didn’t want to burden would eventually learn of it anyway, or be hurt that they were the only ones who had not heard. And, then, fortunately, we turned the table and looked at the situation from the outside in – what would we want if we were a friend or family member of the afflicted? We realized that we would certainly want to know about it for no other reason than we love the person and would wish to pray for them and ask for Jesus’ intercession and healing. We have a large family relatively speaking (pun intended), but our parish family of loved ones is much larger. After realizing we could use all the requests for divine assistance we could get, we decided to let the cat out of the bag.

Have you ever found yourself in a situation seemingly out of your control and hoping for a miracle? Have you kept it to yourself? Or have you sought prayers from others?

Spreading news like this via word of mouth, especially through people who you know love and care about you, is a wonderful thing! It doesn’t take long. By the time I got around to making the official request to be added to our parish’s prayer chain, most folks already knew and had been praying for a while. How do we know? We can feel it. It is the sense of peace that has come over us, the sense that everything is going to be alright, and the feeling that we are in Good Hands. It is in the comforting smiles and the reassuring hugs. It is a feeling borne from knowing that so many people have said rosaries, novenas, offered personal prayers, fasted and made other sacrifices on our behalf. It is the collective, confident assurance from an entire faith community who seem to be saying they have inside information.

If you have requested others to pray for you for personal reasons, how did you feel? Was your faith strengthened? Were you comforted?

Thus, here we are on the eve of the prescribed surgery and I believe we could not have a more positive outlook, feel more at peace with the outcome, or more accepting that this is just a bump in the highway of life. We know we have our immediate families and our extended parish family and friends who will all be pulling for us tomorrow. We have faith in God and the healing power of prayer. Please know that your love and heart-felt prayers are indeed felt and appreciated. We love you.

God Bless you all.

Miracles and Memories

09 Tuesday Jul 2013

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Churches, Prayer

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

Miracles, Rosary

Day four of my solo trip from Cincinnati, Ohio to Seattle, Washington

What day of the week is it? I think today is Tuesday because I was supposed to arrive in Seattle on Monday. I did arrive, by the way. I suppose losing track of time could be the mark of a good vacation, one in which you lose the stress of your normal life and just enjoy the road trip, oblivious to time.

Have you ever had the opportunity to get lost from the rest of the world and lose track of time? Not just hours, but days or weeks?

Day four (Monday) began by being awakened at 5:00 a.m. by a strange and distinctive sounding bird. By the time I donned some clothes, crawled out of my tent and greeted the day, the make-shift rooster was gone and I didn’t hear it again. The sky was already bright blue and cloudless. It was the beginning of another beautiful day. I camped at the Headwaters of the Missouri State Park. This is the confluence point where the Madison, Jefferson and Gallatin Rivers become the Missouri River, the longest river in the U.S. It is where, in 1805, Lewis and Clark and their Corp of Discovery had to stow their boats and take to hiking on their westward journey to the Pacific Ocean. It must have been disheartening to look westward and see the imposing site of the Bitterroot Mountains ahead of you. After breaking down camp I walked down a trail to the river. At this point the Madison and Jefferson came together, slow and meandering. They would join the Gallatin a few hundred yards downstream. As I looked out across the water I had a vision of Meriwether Lewis looking at William Clark and asking, “Well, friend, what do you suggest we do now?” I also had a vision of a sixteen inch Brown trout rising and taking my #18 Elk Hair Caddis fly.

Madison and Jefferson Rivers, MT

My camp was about an hour east of Butte, Montana. I was able to make it to Butte with fifteen minutes to spare before morning mass at St. Ann’s Parish Church. St. Ann’s was a more modern church, at least it was probably very modern in the 1970’s when, according to my limited knowledge of architecture, it appeared to have been built. The church building itself was cylindrical with tall white columns around the perimeter. The interior was the familiar semi-circle with concentric pews radial to the altar. The wall behind the altar was sculpted to appear like the Dove of Peace, the symbol of the Holy Spirit, and the outer walls exhibited very modern brass sculptures of the Stations of the Cross.

St. Ann’s Parish Church, Butte, Montana

Arriving fifteen minutes early allowed me to catch the last couple decades of a Rosary service. The cantor was an old woman, (emphasis on ‘old’), but with a loud, clear voice. You could tell this wasn’t her first Rosary. After the first couple Hail Marys I couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear. This was a special moment. She had a practiced rhythm that modulated like a sine wave. As she said, “and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus”, she spoke slower and slower and, keeping the same loudness, dropped about two octaves in tone. It was beautiful and it made my day, bless her heart. I think I will remember her for evermore as I pray the Rosary.

In my haste to get Sunday’s blog posted yesterday, I forgot to tell you about The Miracle! So, I told you about stopping and taking the picture of the perfect and brilliant double rainbow with a backdrop of the black cloud that produced it. And, I told you the previous day about how my cruise control on my car went out and caused all the other dashboard warning lights to go spastic. After taking the photo of the rainbow I got back in my car, started it up and headed down the road. When I looked down to see that I was up to the speed I wanted to be I noticed that none of the warning lights were flashing on the dash. I turned the cruise control on and it worked! I haven’t had a problem with it since. I have no explanation for it. I had stopped and restarted the car umpteen times up to this point and nothing changed. But, after stopping to check out that rainbow of rainbows, it started working. Coincidence? I don’t think so!

After heading west out of Butte, the next large town was Missoula and it was time for a bio break and some lunch at a Wendy’s. While there I got a phone call from my parents. My mom and dad are also traveling to Seattle but taking about two weeks to get there, camping along the way. I had not talked to them for a few days. I learned they were only a few miles west of Missoula at a campground not two hundred yards from the interstate on the banks of the Clarks Fork River. I hadn’t seen my folks since Easter so, when I pulled off the interstate into their campground, we had a nice but short thirty minute visit before I needed to get back on the road. I would be seeing them again on Saturday.

The rest of the trip was uneventful but beautiful and inspiring. The Bitterroot Mountains were sharp and majestic. I ran into a severe storm with marble sized hail in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho. I marveled at the barrenness of the Columbia River Plateau west of Spokane and the enormity and depth of the Columbia River Gorge in central Washington. The lushness and unique ruggedness of the Cascade Mountains makes your jaw drop, and the view of the Seattle skyline, the Sound and islands in the distance, and the flowers – lavender, roses and dahlias, to name a few – are everywhere to be seen and enjoyed . This morning I realized that I never turned the radio on or listened to a music CD or a book on tape the whole day yesterday. That would have been a distraction.

When was the last time you really paid attention to the beauty that lies outside your windshield? Has it become so routine that you don’t notice the landscape anymore?

I arrived at my daughter’s at 7:57 p.m. local time, three minutes ahead of the eight o’clock arrival I had planned in my head before I left home Friday morning, another 660 miles for the day and 2,640 miles for the trip.

Visiting a new church every day and praying my way across America has been a unique, memorable, fun and spiritual experience. It’s heartening to see there are many good and faithful Catholics out there in the world. I feel more at peace than I have in weeks and I have a comfortable confidence that my prayers have been heard.

I want to challenge you to get out of your comfort zone and visit a new church, just for fun and for the experience. You don’t have to go far, maybe just the next community over. Or, purposely go to mass at your own church at a different time than normal so you can meet new people. See how other people worship. And, spread the Word.

Control of my own time is over. From now until my daughter’s wedding this weekend I will be a gopher, expected to jump at anyone’s beck and call. That’s okay, it was good while it lasted and gophering is what the father of the bride and husband of the bride’s mother is supposed to do prior to a wedding.

It may be a while until my next post. Until then, God Bless you all.

Bolo Ties, Rosaries and Rainbows

08 Monday Jul 2013

Posted by Jerry Robinson in Churches

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

God-moments, Rosary

Day three of my solo trip from Cincinnati, Ohio to Seattle, Washington.

After a marvelous hot, home-cooked breakfast by my sister-in-law this morning, and a nice visit with everyone, I set out again on my way westward. As I was driving out of town I passed the Cathedral of the Diocese of Rapid City and thought I should, to hold true to the last two days, pop in for Sunday mass. But, mass was already three quarters completed and the next one wasn’t for another hour and a half. So, I looked up other churches in town and found one who’s mass was starting in fifteen minutes and I had just enough time to get to St. Therese the Little Flower church. I was greeted at the front door by a nice man wearing a white shirt with a blue bolo tie. The clasp on the tie was engraved with a Knights of Columbus emblem. The church was small, about the same size as the old church in my home parish. There were twenty pews on both Mary’s and Joseph’s side and they were all packed! I estimated about 350 people in attendance. As I looked around I noticed something different – all the ushers were wearing the same white shirts with the same bolo ties, all with the K of C emblem. Interesting. As the mass began I noticed something else different, something different than, I think, any other church to which I’ve ever been – the entire congregation sang the hymns and spoke during the responsorial parts. They didn’t mumble and they didn’t sing in low voices. No, they blurted it out like they meant it! I was awestruck. These folks had some spirit, now, I’m telling you! Then, as luck would have it, there was an infant boy being baptized. I watched as the entire congregation craned their necks to be a witness to this sacrament. When we got to the offering of peace to our neighbors, I wasn’t sure it was ever going to end. Folks were walking across the aisle to people on the other side, down the aisle several pews to shake hands with people they knew. It was amazing that everyone found their seats again. By this time I was wearing a huge smile. It was a sight to behold! And then, to top things off, for Holy Communion, the Eucharistic ministers assembled in front of the altar and, you guessed it, they were all wearing white shirts with K of C blue bolo ties. As intrigued as I was about it all, I was surprised, though, that there were no women involved. I should have asked someone why. I would have liked to hang around and talk to some of the parishioners and find out more about what I witnessed but I was afraid it would be hours before I got back on the road. One thing in particular came to mind: the two prior days I attended huge, impressive and immaculately built cathedrals. The congregations, however, had the typical life in them to which I have become accustomed, neither dull nor exuberant. St. Therese the Little Flower was an unimpressive building, certainly nowhere close to a real cathedral. But, to the men, women and children attending you could tell they considered it their cathedral.

St. Therese the Little Flower Parish Church, Rapid City, SD

Is mass sometimes dull for you or is it an exuberant experience? Is there anything you can do as an individual that can improve your experience?

Somebody asked why I’m visiting a new church every day and why I’m posting about it. Good question. There may be many of you wondering the same thing but you’re afraid to ask. Without an answer from me, you’re free to come up with your own reasons however wrong they may be. I do have a few reasons. First, I find it’s easier for me to pray in church than anywhere else. And why all the praying, you ask? Because I know some people for whom I need to pray, with one person in particular being very special to me. Second, I’m posting about the various churches because I find them interesting and I’m trying to hold true to the intent of this blog – to provide food for thought to other Catholics. I travel a lot, I have my whole life. But I know other people who have never been a hundred miles away from the town in which they were born and have never attended a church other than the one in which they were baptized. Although a Catholic mass is about the same everywhere you go, there are some slight differences in the way the mass is performed, and certainly differences between the church’s community, as I described above. Third, I think this blogging business is kind of my way of evangelizing – maybe a way of showing others there is some pretty cool stuff in this life called Christianity, especially as a Catholic. And, last but not least, because I can. I’m on vacation alone with no one to tell me what to do, where to be or how fast to go.

Talk about evangelizing – I stopped in a McDonalds in Spearfish, South Dakota to use their wifi to post yesterday’s blog. The place was crowded with teens. Their shirts said they were a youth group from a Catholic parish somewhere in Colorado. They had been on a mission trip to an Indian reservation in northwestern South Dakota. As they were preparing to leave and get back on the bus, they all stood holding hands in one big circle around the interior of the restaurant and sang a hymn. It was an awesome experience! Even the bikers headed either to or from Sturgis were impressed.

How do you evangelize?

When you head west out of Rapid City you travel several miles through the beautiful Black Hills of both South Dakota and Wyoming. When you come out of the Black Hills approaching Gillette, Wyoming, there’s nothing but grassy rolling hills without a tree to be seen. There really aren’t any surprises around each bend in the road or over the next hill, the vista is about the same until you get to Buffalo at the foot of the Big Horn mountains. Oh, that stretch of road is beautiful in its own way but it is a little boring. I took advantage of my ennui on this stretch of road and decided to do something useful – pray the Rosary. I had been to one family Rosary once before but this was the first time to try it on my own. I took out my Rosary and retrieved the instruction book I brought with me and began to read what came first. Fortunately, there aren’t many cars on the road in this part of the country and I was able to do what I needed to do without much peril to me or anyone else. As I prayed and reflected on each of the Glorious Mysteries I felt at peace. I wouldn’t have done this on the road back home but out here where there is less traffic and the beauty of God’s Green Earth is so evident, it was a special event.

A few miles later after I made the turn at Buffalo, Wyoming and headed for Billings, Montana, I saw a huge thunderstorm brewing in the direction I was heading. It had the massive ‘anvil’ of one that could produce some large hail and high winds. It looked like I might miss the worst of it but the road was climbing in elevation up into the storm cloud. I started catching the fringe of the storm with a LOT of wind and rain but, fortunately, no hail. The road actually went up into this dark black cloud! As I was passing through it it was like night and visibility couldn’t have been more than a hundred yards. But, it only lasted about a mile until the road began a descent and we came out of the cloud. It was a pretty cool experience. I’ve flown through clouds on planes and helicopters but can’t say I’ve ever driven through one quite like that before.

A beautiful consequence of this storm was that it produced a magnificent double rainbow just a couple miles down the road. I’ve seen some nice rainbows before, and several double rainbows, but none quite like this, especially with the backdrop of this one. I felt sorry for those who might look at it as only a rainbow and not the God moment that it is to me.

Rainbow spanning the Wyoming-Montana State Line

I wrapped up the day’s drive of 580 miles (1,980 todate) by stopping and setting up camp at the Headwaters of the Missouri State park. I built a campfire and ate a snack and thought about what a perfect day it was as the western sky got dark and the stars came out in full force.

I’d love to hear from you about your God moments.

Today’s destination: my daughter’s house in Seattle, Washington.

God bless you all.