Author: Denis Wilhelm

Contemplating Stonehenge

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Last Sunday we visited Stonehenge. And I must admit that initially I wasn’t all that thrilled about seeing it. My mates here in England apparently have traveled to Stonehenge through the years on school trips, family outings, etc. and have “seen enough of it”. Some friends in America who have toured the site reported that “it wasn’t worth the trip”. So even though Stonehenge is just an hour from where we live, I hadn’t been highly motivated to make the journey south. What could I see there that I hadn’t already seen in books or documentaries?

But all my preconceptions were wrong! Stonehenge is massive, that I knew, but the magnitude of the work involved in carrying and assembling the stones is astonishing. More interesting to me of course is the ‘why’?

The true purpose of Stonehenge remains a mystery. The massive stone circle was erected 4,500 years ago by ancient people using simple tools. Was it a temple, or a burial site or maybe some kind of solar calendar?

Legends and theories abound. One of my favourites is that the wizard Merlin magically transported it to Wiltshire from Ireland. Some folks believe aliens built it as some sort of celestial observatory. Others are convinced that it is some great spiritual destination and that stones have healing powers (we even encountered a few self-proclaimed Druids on our journey).

Walking through Stonehenge I was struck with a great sense of loss. These giant stones were assembled by ancient people using tremendous strength, spending countless hours, and employing precision calculations. This must have been an important place! How sad that today we have lost whatever significance was once attributed to this great monument?

Will our own churches, mosques, and temples someday only be a curiosity to future generations? Will our places of worship become just tourist destinations? Will they someday only be a place for smiling photos with friends with no consideration of the significance of our beliefs?

Recent trips to great cathedrals, abbeys, and ancient churches have made me ponder if my own Church is not at risk of someday becoming extinct. As I’ve walked through many hallowed buildings it seems there is more tourism than worship; more photography than prayer; more indifference than belief.

I believe that Stonehenge may be a cautionary tale. Were the “men in charge” more interested in ‘the rules’ than they were in the worshippers? Were some people deemed unworthy and forbidden entrance to this sacred place? Did Stonehenge become a center for intolerance, derision, oppression, discrimination and hatred based on nonconformity or failure to walk in lock-step with those in authority? Were wars and tyranny justified in the name of Stonehenge?

In my opinion, my church, the Catholic Church, can avoid becoming obsolete (and a hollow ruin) by embracing the love that Christ preached. We should be building bridges; not walls. We should be reaching out to all peoples with open arms; not turning our backs on those with whom we disagree.

During this Lenten season I am trying once again to embrace Jesus’ love for all. And struggling in my own humble, flawed way to follow His tremendous example. I’m reminded that God didn’t create me to hate me. Why should I be any less loving to others?

Peace,

Denis

Grandsons Are Grand Indeed!

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Grandson Noah

This week our dear friends Jeanne and Bob became grandparents for the first time. Their joy – Oliver a healthy baby boy! My school chum Cecilia was also recently blessed with grandson James. Grandsons are God’s assurance that he hasn’t given up on this messy, wonderful world which we inhabit.

Of course nothing is sweeter than a newborn, especially your own grandson. It’s another chance. A new hope. A future. A legacy. So much expectation placed on such tiny shoulders. But guess what? It doesn’t matter. No one else will ever fill that special place in your heart that only he can hold.

As much as we need our grandsons, I believe that they need us, too. We grandparents are the ones who can listen to them, mend their broken spirits, and reassure them that no problem is too big to fix or no disappointment worth their sweet tears. Everything will be alright – with a cookie, a hug, a wiped tear and a kiss. They are perfect in our eyes – and that’s as it should be. Our love for them is unconditional. We may place all our hopes and dreams upon our sons (and daughters) but our grandsons have met our every goal just by smiling at us or speaking our name or holding our hand. I like to think that the way I love my grandson is the way that God loves me – no strings attached.

So Jeanne and Bob and Cecilia and all of you that have grandsons, go grab your boys and give them a squeeze and remind them that you will love them even on their worst days. And that you will always be there to cheer them on; sing their praises; wave their flag; and love them; until your dying day.

All grandsons really need to do is accept our love. When it is reciprocated is when we get a tiny glimpse of heaven. And that’s as it should be…

Peace,

Denis

Here’s a video of my sweet Noah – http://youtu.be/TyD1ZbaYMQc

I Give Up!

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It’s Lent and Catholics are expected time to ‘give up’ something. In years past I believed that by  ‘giving up’ or ‘doing without’ I was able to prove my mettle. I could wear it like a badge of honor – “Look at me – I’m stoic.” “I must be holy and worthy because I gave up eating chocolate or drinking alcohol, or stopped using curse words (a personal favorite) for forty days!” But didn’t that miss the point? Could I continue to be a jerk and give up candy and God would still be pleased?

I don’t mean to trivialize something that millions hold so dear and I also know that many people choose to make Lenten sacrifices to honor the great sacrifice that Jesus made for us. But for me at times it all seems so silly – so superficial.

“When you fast, anoint your head and wash your face, so that you may not appear to be fasting, except to your Father who is hidden. And your Father who sees what is hidden will repay you.” Matthew 6:17-18

This year, “I give up!” I will let go of my need to ‘let go’.  Instead I will make a concerted effort to ‘do something’. A few years ago a friend sent this to me. It’s not necessarily a Lenten ‘to do list’ but it could be. I’m going to give it a try:

This Year

Mend a quarrel ~ Seek out a forgotten friend

Dismiss suspicion and replace it with trust

Write a love letter ~ Share some treasure

Encourage youth ~ Appreciate one another

Manifest your loyalty in word and deed

Keep a promise ~ Find the time

Forgo a grudge ~ Forgive an enemy

Listen. Listen. Listen. ~ Apologize if you are wrong

Give a soft answer ~ Try to understand

Gladden the heart of a child

Examine your demands on others

Think first of someone else ~ Be kind; be gentle

Laugh a little ~ Laugh a little more

Deserve confidence ~ Flout envy

Take up arms against malice ~ Decry complacency

Express your gratitude ~ Welcome a stranger

Take pleasure in the beauty of the earth

Speak your love ~ Speak it again

Speak it once again

Peace,

Denis

A Tale of Two Countries

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At home again in England after a week of traveling in the United States. And this feels like home now (albeit a quiet one without kids or grandkids) because Deb has filled this place with love and comfort that only her special touch can provide.

So now I’m a man living in two countries at one time. My heart is in both places and my head – well my head bounces back and forth between the two – how to drive; how to speak; what to eat; how to tip; what to watch on the Tele (or T.V.); etc, etc.

Traveling to America with my work-mates was great fun. I felt like a cross between a tour guide and an indulgent parent. In New York between customer visits we managed to see The Word Trade Center, Central Park, Rockefeller Center, Times Square (at least twice), Bryant Park, The Empire State Building, Grand Central Station, and St. Patrick’s Cathedral. In St. Louis they were forced to go on “The Denis Wilhelm Boyhood Tour” complete with a drive past most of the important places of my youth. In Las Vegas (well what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas) let’s just say a good time was had by all.

A bittersweet goodbye

A bittersweet goodbye

Of course for me the best part of the trip was the evening I spent with my daughter, son-in-law, granddaughter and grandson. Deb was there, too (she had spent the week with them while I was traveling about). The welcome that I received from Anna and Noah can’t be put into words. It’s suffice to say that their cheers of “Pawpaw, Pawpaw, Pawpaw!” are still ringing in my ears and will live in my heart forever. And my tears of joy were mixed with sorrow the next morning on my departure.

In New York I had the opportunity to attend Mass at St. Patrick’s Cathedral and while there amidst all the grandeur I found myself missing St. Peter Church in Cirencester (our tiny Catholic Church here in England) and wondered if others there were missing their home churches, too. It’s odd (to me) that I didn’t think first of St. Joseph in Cottleville – our U.S. church.

So I’m happy to be back in England and I know that I can leave and return and leave again because there’s a piece of me in both places now. And I believe that’s how it should be.

Peace,

Denis

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

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Saturday begins a week of travel: London to New York; New York to Saint Louis; Saint Louis to Las Vegas; Las Vegas back to London (and then home to Oaksey). It’s a lot of travel for one week. And I’m not in any city more than 48 hours – barely enough time to catch my breath.

I’m not complaining. I’m actually looking forward to sneaking away one evening in Saint Louis to see my daughter, son-in-law and grandkids – even if it is for just a few hours. That one evening will help put the rest of the week into perspective.

Things are a bit topsy-turvy in my life right now. Home is now Oaksey, Wiltshire, United Kingdom. But “going home” means traveling to Saint Louis to see family. It’s a strange feeling. We love our new home and we are very glad to be here but Deb and I have both said it could only be perfect if our family and friends were here, too.

So I’ll grab a hug and kiss or two in Saint Louis and then go on to more business in Las Vegas only to return to England at the week’s end. Deb will be joining me on the return flight to London (she’ll spend the week with our family while I traipse all over the country).

I’ll be an Ambassador of sorts for my staff here in the U.K. Four of us will be traveling together and two of them haven’t spent much time in the U.S., let alone New York or Las Vegas. It should be interesting (and maybe entertaining) traveling together. Here’s hoping that our travels are pleasant; our meetings are purposeful; and our flights are on time. I feel personally responsible for how their perception of America will be shaped by this whirlwind week of travel.

Things that I’m dreading:

Television coverage of the GOP primary

Rednecks

Tourists in New York – “walk with purpose, people!”

All-you-can-eat buffets (Americans are considered grossly over-fed by Brits)

Rude taxi drivers

Drunk and disorderly Vegas revellers (particularly if it’s one of us)

Anyone wearing a Hawaiian shirt

Hoping to avoid all these things, but I can only do so much…

Peace,

Denis

The More Things Change – The More They Stay The Same

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This Wednesday is Ash Wednesday. Lent, like most everything else in England, will be different this year.

Saint Peter Roman Catholic Church - Cirencester

We’ve been attending Mass at St. Peter R.C. Church in Cirencester, Gloustershire. It’s quite a departure from St. Joseph in Cottleville, Missouri. First of all, there is only one Sunday Mass – 11:00 a.m. Secondly it is a very small church; my guess is it might hold about 200 hundred people but 150 seems more likely. Thirdly it’s old; not English old but about 120 years old which is more than 100 years older than St. Joseph’s. And finally, it’s poor; the weekly collection is averaging £240.00 – that’s approximately $380.00. St. Joseph usually takes in $40,000.00 weekly. I suppose the numbers tell a story but only part of the story.

We are proudly Catholic here at St. Peter in Cirencester. Perhaps it’s because our numbers are small and our voices are so few. We are clearly in the minority – dwarfed by The Church of England. But there is great joy and there is much hope and there is abundant love. Our priest, Father Michael Davies, works two parishes – ours and St. Michael’s Tetbury.  He’s not a young man but has an indefatigable spirit and a self-deprecating sense of humour. His energy and his wit belie his years. And his gentle approach to our faith is a nice respite from some of the heavy-handed demands being made by our bishops in the U.S.  today – none of the “my way or the highway” mentality. On Sunday he actually ‘invited’ people to fast and abstain on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday – inviting instead of obliging or demanding. Maybe it’s only because of my pride that I prefer to be asked instead of being told what to do; but ‘asking’ instead of ‘telling’ made all the difference to me.

My yes is yes! to a request, an invitation; not an edict. And that’s what Jesus does – He invites us to share in His passion during Lent. He invites us to journey through His pain and suffering. He offers us His sacrifice – we can accept (or not).

Years ago at a retreat in Wisconsin the priest/facilitator suggested that the Church should be in the business of asking, not telling, so that we can all freely say yes to God’s call.

And so here I am twenty years on and the answer is still yes (when I’m asked).

Peace,

Denis

A Sunny Day In England

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There is always something for which to be thankful. Today I’m thankful for a sunny day. Yes, the sun is shining and the temperature is about 9 degrees Celsius (or 48 degrees Fahrenheit). It’s a nice change from our snowy and cold weekend.

I tend to be a “glass half full” kind of a guy and I try to stay positive but there are times when circumstances become overwhelming (like moving to a place far away from loved ones, where everyone thinks that you talk funny). And then sometimes I am inclined to have a little ‘pity party’ which never really helps and just adds to the general feeling of negativity. The best way (for me) to get over my melancholy is to make a list in my head of all the things for which I am grateful.

Today I’m starting with the sunshine. The rest of my list today (in no apparent order or importance) is as follows:

Sunny day in Oaktree Business Centre

  • The beautiful blue sky.
  • Kissing Deb goodbye this morning and getting kissed back.
  • My work mates; especially John who brought me a lovely cup of tea this morning.
  • A video that Bess sent yesterday of Anna wishing us a Happy Valentine’s Day (I’ve played it several times already today).
  • Mid-term school holidays this week – because traffic is much lighter.
  • Normal traffic – because it’s never really that bad.
  • The kindness of strangers – most people here have been very welcoming, helpful and patient (especially the cashiers at the markets while I struggle to determine which coin is £2 and which one is 2p).

So I have a few things to be thankful for today and I’ll hopefully have a few more tomorrow. And isn’t that all we can really hope for – blessings and thankfulness?

Peace,

Denis

Saint Isidore and Other Miraculous Interventions

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Saint Isidore is considered by many in the Catholic Church to be the Patron Saint of Technology and the Internet. Which is interesting since he died in 636? I guess he wrote a bunch of stuff and people read it, therefore he was an information provider; hence the connection to the World Wide Web of information. Whatever the rationale, I am grateful for the internet and not opposed to praying for his intervention.

Having grandkids in America whilst we’re here in England is at times heartbreaking and has evoked more than a few tears – I miss you Charlise, Anna and Noah! But we have been blessed to have ‘Skyped’ and ‘Facetimed’ and talked each week (sometimes multiple times in one week). And I think of the generations that have gone before me that left home and family to build a new life or fight in foreign wars with little more than the hope of a letter from home. A letter that could take months to reach a loved one and months more to receive a reply. How they must have cherished those missives.

Even though technology makes leaps and bounds every day, the human heart and soul remains unchanged. We need one another. We need to love and be loved. And we are connected spiritually even if we’re not always connected physically or electronically. Don’t get me wrong – I love the Internet, e-mail, Wi-Fi, and all the other stuff that I don’t really understand the workings of (and don’t want to) but that I use daily. After all, I’m even able to post my blog and reach my friends, family and followers almost magically.

But it’s not just technology that keeps us connected. It’s the bond that we create with the ones that we love that allows us to feel their joy and their pain even when we’re worlds apart. It’s the shared experiences and memories that keep them in our hearts always.

“It has a spot on it”

I have a silly game (sort of) that I play with my granddaughters. It goes like this: If they’re wearing polka-dots, I will say “I like your shirt (pants, dress, etc.) but it has a spot on it!” – this is particularly funny when you’re a little girl who likes to indulge her grandfather. I always say it; and they always feign annoyance (their giggles giving away their true delight in our little joke). It’s just our thing.

Recently my younger granddaughter, Anna, asked her Daddy to pretend to be Pawpaw and to tell her that she had a spot on her shirt. That moment to me was better than any Skype or Facetime or Internet connection. It was Anna connecting to me and my son-in-law being generous enough to be my proxy in ‘our game’. So I think I’ll thank St. Joseph (the patron saint of fathers) for that intervention, too. And send hugs and kisses to Anna and Daddy Travis…

Peace,

Denis

A Scone By Any Other Name Would Taste As Sweet

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One of our big concerns about moving across the pond was the food. To be honest, English food is not universally renowned. Oh, of course there’s Yorkshire pudding and fish and chips but beyond that most non-Brits can’t name a single English dish that they’ve ever eaten and enjoyed or more importantly ever ordered in a restaurant.

It turns out that we have been pleasantly surprised. Not only have we found some lovely pubs (for the record ‘pub’ is a misnomer – most pubs are more like casual restaurants that happen to sell ales) but we have also discovered some fabulous ‘green grocers’ (produce shops).  And the full-line grocery stores that we’ve shopped have great meat, dairy (especially cheeses) and bakery – not to mention the puddings!

Add to all of this the fact that Deb is a fantastic cook and there’s a very good chance that I will come home weighing an additional stone or two.

Last night at dinner we discussed the fact that we haven’t missed any foods from home. Not one – not once. Plus with the availability of inexpensive French and Italian wines we’ve been dining like royalty.

Much of the food here is the same as what we’re used to in the States. But there are notable exceptions:

  • Scones – scones here are not the giant Starbucks variety, which are often coated in sugar. Instead they are typically small, round, dense delights that sometimes have sultanas baked in but I think that the best ones are plain. Simply delicious with a cup of tea.
  • Carrots – carrots are small, sweet, and fresh. None of the little whittled-down type that are washed and ready to eat that we find at home (which seem to have been bleached of all germs and taste).
  • Beef – British beef is wonderfully marbled and red. Brits don’t seem to be afraid of a little fat (hence the concern about gaining an extra stone or two).
  • Chicken – It tastes like chicken from when I was a kid. Maybe it’s not raised in a ‘poultry factory’ over here.
  • Swedes – A root vegetable, that can be mashed, roasted, baked – always delicious.
  • Meat Pies – What can I say? See beef and chicken above.
  • Ginger Beer – A soft drink; like rootbeer but with an attitude.
  • Puddings – Actually all desserts are called puddings here but the real puddings; those delectable concoctions of sponge cake and warm sauce are a little slice of heaven. I love them all – Sticky Toffee, Chocolate, Caramel with Pecan Sauce. Yum, yum, yum!

So we’re eating well and learning to love some new foods along the way. I’ll continue to thank God for all the blessings on our table. Now if I could just master holding my fork in my left hand then I could dine like a proper Brit. 

Happy Eating!

Denis

In Her Heart

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Our daughter Bess told us, that last Sunday when they were entering church for Mass, our  granddaughter Anna said, “Nana and Pawpaw are here!” Not wanting Anna to be upset upon realizing that we in fact were not there, Bess replied, “No Anna, remember Nana and Pawpaw are still in England.” Anna’s response, “Mommy, they’re here in my heart!”

Anna

So after we wiped away each other’s tears and clearly comprehended what we had heard, an overwhelming sense of calm and joy prevailed. “In her heart” is exactly where I want to be! What a gift, those words. What a prayer answered. My biggest concern about leaving home and family behind was that we might become strangers to our grandchildren – that the geographical distance would create an emotional distance as well.

All of that was put to rest with Anna’s simple statement – we are in her heart – and she is always in ours! I’m not certain how a three year old (she’ll be four at the end of March) can be so wise but I thank God for her wisdom and her spirit.

And wrapped up in her tiny heart is exactly where I want to be.

Jesus called the children to himself and said, “Let the children come to me and do not prevent them; for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.”  Luke 18:16

Peace,

Denis