Commentary

Saints Be Praised! (well, Saint Denis anyway…)

/ Denis Wilhelm / 3 Comments

Today is the Feast Day of St. Denis. He is the patron Saint of Paris and France and headache sufferers.

I’ve always been happy to have Denis as my saint’s name because he’s kind of a maverick and a tough guy. According to legend Denis was Bishop of Paris in the third century and was martyred by beheading. He is said to have picked up his own head and walked six miles, preaching a sermon the entire way. Besides being the patron saint of headache sufferers (for obvious reasons), Denis is also the patron saint of people dealing with frenzy and strife. This is not surprising considering that six-mile trek while carrying his own severed head. Makes my head hurt just thinking about it!

St. Denis - Outside the Madeline in Paris (depicted with head intact)
St. Denis – Outside the Madeleine in Paris (depicted with head intact)

Of course, I admire the “saintly” saints who prayed and fasted and gave up all worldly possessions to follow Jesus’ call. We all love the saints who lived simple lives and made tremendous sacrifices for their faith but there’s something about a guy that’s got Denis’s spunk. I mean even the biggies like Francis and Theresa and Patrick and Clare didn’t carry around their own heads postmortem. So, in my book Denis is a saint to emulate. Not only was he tough but he was cool. Let’s call it grace under pressure – extreme pressure.

My Aunt Gene Marie used to send me a ‘Saints Day’ card on Denis’s Feast Day, and I will miss that again this year. When Alzheimer’s took its grip, she forgot about Saint Denis and was sometimes a little fuzzy about who I was, too. But she’s the one who first introduced me to the saint who shares my name. And I have always taken a certain amount of pride (is that a sin?) in the fact that my patron saint was a badass who defied his Roman persecutors!

I like to think that Aunt Gene and Denis are in heaven having a conversation about that fateful day in Paris so many centuries ago…

Peace,

Denis

P.S. Several years ago my now teenage grandson was Saint Denis at his school’s annual All Saints’ Day celebration. More pride…

Man Cannot Live By Bread Alone…

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Man cannot live by bread alone, or so the story goes. And of course it’s a metaphor for life but I love bread. And with a glass of wine, I’d be just fine. I love all bread (and if rice and pasta count) then my life is complete. I love Italian bread and French baguettes and Indian naan and New York bagels and big yeasty rolls and pita and biscuits and hard rolls and well, you get the idea. I LOVE BREAD.

bread-collageYears ago when we were in France with our family having lunch at a little outdoor café, there was a small (very small) basket of bread at my place. We were enjoying our meal and then someone asked if there was any more bread. I had eaten all of mine. It was then that I realized no one else had been given a basket of bread – because THE BASKET was for the entire table. Apparently the French are very stingy with their bread (others at our table thought that I had eaten more than my share but they were wrong).

My grandkids are big bread-eaters, too. I encourage this. I wish that there were more bakeries. I would like to see a campaign for bread like those milk ads of recent history. With athletes and celebrities shoving there faces into some doughy confection and extolling it’s virtue with a “Got Bread?” tagline. Nothing is better than a warm, crusty roll fresh out of the oven. Nothing smells better than bread baking. Nothing brings the same comfort as bread and butter. One of the joys of living in England last year was the multitude of bakeries near our village. We had fresh bread nearly everyday. And cheese – glorious cheese! Bread was always a part of each meal at our table and sometimes bread alone would have been enough (with the aforementioned glass of wine).

So why can’t we live on bread alone? Because we need butter, too. And wine. Even Jesus needed bread and wine. Metaphorically speaking we also need more than just bread. We need diversity. We need choices. Life would be boring if everyone was the same; if everyday was like the day before. I believe that the messiness of life provides the ‘flavor’. The uncertainty of life can be challenging at times  but it can also whet our appetite for more: more adventure; more opportunity; more joy; more love.

So I suppose as much as I love bread I still can’t live on it alone (or that I would want to) but I think that I could live on bread and wine and cheese and chocolate. Oh, and don’t forget bacon! Man might be able to live on bacon alone. But then again…

Peace,

Denis

Francis Gives Me Hope

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Pope Francis certainly has the attention of the press. And much of the faithful. And me.

He has shown himself to be a humble man willing to embrace the poorest amongst us. He has bucked the traditionalists who wanted more theological dogma. He has exasperated the Church hierarchy while they are busy telling us what he meant to say. Francis keeps shaking things up. Today’s interview in America Magazine only serves to further frustrate his critics.

“A person once asked me, in a provocative manner, if I approved of homosexuality. I replied with another question: ‘Tell me: when God looks at a gay person, does he endorse the existence of this person with love, or reject and condemn this person?’ We must always consider the person.”

Read the whole article here – http://www.americamagazine.org/pope-interview

For several years now I have felt cold, distant and isolated in my Church. Far too long I have felt marginally Catholic (or not Catholic at all). The cultural battle within our Church has divided communities, parishes and families. Instead of joining together in prayer and worship we are often focusing our time and talent on divisive issues. Who is worthy? Who is authentic? Who really belongs at this table?

But where is the charity? Where is the compassion? Where is Jesus in all of this?

When I listen to Pope Francis words, “Without hope, we can walk, but we’ll become cold, indifferent, self-absorbed,  distant and isolated” my hope is once again restored.

And with HOPE my faith is being restored.

Pope FrancisMore powerful than Francis’ words; his love for all of God’s creation and his humility should be an example for us. Ultra-conservative Catholics are in an uproar because he hasn’t devoted enough attention to church teaching on abortion, contraception and homosexuality. Instead he has made poverty and social justice a priority. He is embracing all of us not just a select few who seem obsessed with dogmatic allegiance.

“This Church with which we should be thinking is the home of all, not a small chapel that can hold only a small group of selected people.”

I want to belong to that Church; the one that “throws the doors open” and welcomes us all. A ‘big tent’ Church that has room for saints and sinners. I want a Church where my daughter and granddaughters will be given the same dignity and opportunity as men.

Francis gives me hope…

Peace,

Denis

Companions on the Journey

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

I am not alone. I am never alone. Lately I have been reminded of this truth. This life; this journey is not solitary. God sends us partners. God sends us companions for our journey.

I’ve been on a bit of an emotional roller-coaster in the past few weeks.

Good news: Granddaughters Charlise and Anna are happily in school – 3rd grade and kindergarten. Grandson Noah turns 3 in two weeks and has adjusted to being at home without big sister (and maybe is relishing all the extra attention). Grandchild #4 is due in about a month and is anxiously and joyfully anticipated (another girl). Home projects are near successful completion. Work and travel have been manageable this summer. The St. Louis Cardinals are headed for a pennant race. And next weekend we will join in the celebration of Deb’s Goddaughter’s marriage.

Bad news: My Aunt Loretta passed away unexpectedly. My heart aches for my cousins in their loss. She was always the “life of the party” and she will be dearly missed. Our son Blake was severely burned in a kitchen accident at work 2 weeks ago – hot butter spilled down his foreman. This resulted in third degree burns that have required a skin graft. His recovery will be slow and painful. Still we are thankful for skilled surgeons, a caring and knowledgeable nursing staff, and countless prayers from friends.

All of which makes me realize that I am never alone. Even when I want to just pull the covers over my head and cry out “WHY!”, I am reminded that I have companions on this journey. I can face the bad news; the setbacks; the hardships because my load is lightened by the love and support of those around me.

We never walk alone

We never walk alone

More importantly I am reminded that I can also bring healing and compassion to others as they journey through their lives. Jesus told us to love one another. That doesn’t simply mean “do no harm”. It means that we must reach out to those in need. That we must care. That we must pray. That we must love actively by investing ourselves in the lives of others. And we must allow others to carry our burdens, too. Sometimes our journeys are messy. Often there are detours along the way. But we never walk alone.

God sends us companions for our journey. I am thankful for those who have guided me along my way. And I am humbled by their compassion.

Peace,

Denis

Kindergarten and Beyond…

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Granddaughter Anna started Kindergarten this week. It’s one of life’s big milestones, like  first steps or first words. But Kindergarten is more than just a milestone, it’s about education. It’s the door to knowledge and adventure and socialization and community. Certainly Anna’s education began the day she was born. The difference is the fact that Kindergarten is formal education provided by professional teachers. And everything from this day forward will be on her “permanent record”.

Ready to learn!

Ready to learn!

That seems like a tall order for a little person. But I’m confident that she will succeed and thrive. Anna is bright, loving, inquisitive and kind. Her school is filled with loving, caring educators who put the children in their care above all other concerns. And she has parents who will support her and the school in their shared goal of educating Anna.

Still I’m feeling a bit ambivalent about all this BIG GIRL stuff. Maybe I’m being too sappy and overly sentimental. I suppose all parents (and sappy grandparents, too) are entitled to a few tears on the first day. But that should quickly give way to the excitement of new adventures in learning for our children and grandchildren.

Anna has already learned so much in her five short years. Her knowledge will grow exponentially now that she is in school. And soon I will be struggling to keep up with her. I just hope that she can teach this old dog a few new tricks along the way…

Peace,

Denis

School Daze

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Growing up there were two choices in my little world: both were Catholic schools. In my hometown there was also a Lutheran school, but it seemed foreign and exotic and I never knew anyone who actually went there. And Public School was taboo and frightening. We simultaneously prayed for and pitied the Public School kids but mostly we feared them.

St_Peter_Grade_School_1960Such was life in a small town in the 1960’s. There were as many as 40 kids in a single classroom. We sat in long rows. We took turns. We did as we were told. We attended Mass daily. We were (mostly) quiet, polite and respectful. We studied hard. We burned off excess energy on the asphalt playground. We helped clean chalkboards after school for fun. And Sister kept order and discipline at all times.

Nostalgia has a way of white-washing and sweetening our memories. But Catholic school in the 1960’s was far from idyllic. Learning disabilities were discounted or ignored (kids were either smart or stupid). Physical abuse went unreported. Bullies controlled the playground and bathrooms. And although Sister was always right, she was under-valued, under-paid and likely took out her frustration on the students in her care.

My granddaughters are now in school and tremendous advances in education have been made in the 50+ years since I started elementary school. As a society we are more aware of bullying (and have adopted zero-tolerance policies), we embrace and celebrate diversity, and learning disabilities are diagnosed and accommodated.

One granddaughter attends Public School, the other attends Catholic School. Each attend quality schools with small class sizes and safe classrooms. Both have sound nutritional and physical programs, as well as art and music at their respective schools. And both have attentive and engaged parents who value education.

Yet I’m in a bit of a daze. Teachers in 2013 still seem to be under-valued, under-paid and under-appreciated. Our children are in the hands of teachers who are often struggling to make ends meet. Not surprising that gifted teachers often leave their careers for better paying jobs in the corporate world. As a society it seems we pay more attention to the kind of athletic shoes, iPhones or fashion that our kids are sporting then to ensuring that they are being educated by well-paid, well-trained teachers.

Let’s invest in our future. Let’s appropriately fund our schools. Let’s support educators. And let’s thank the ones that taught us by working for a better life for the ones that will teach our future generations. I was blessed to be taught by Sisters who loved God and their communities and sacrificed their lives that we might learn. If you want to be nostalgic think of a teacher that you loved (and who loved you). And then pay that love forward to a future teacher who might just improve the lives of your grandchildren.

Peace,

Denis

On This Day…

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Today is my wife’s birthday.

It’s hard sometimes to believe that we’ve known each other for 40 years. We met after high school graduation when we were both working part-time at the same discount store while attending local colleges. We had attended different high schools and we were attending different colleges but we spent a lot of time together at our part-time jobs.

Friendship turned into love and love turned into marriage. And the rest is history.

What I didn’t know 40 years ago could fill volumes. But what I did know then, was that Debbie was (and is) perfect for me. And everyday with her has been a blessing. That doesn’t mean that our life together has always been easy. There have been plenty of ups and downs but it’s been one helluva ride!

I think that we’ve laughed nearly everyday of our married life (sometimes through tears). Deb has made me the man that I always wanted to be and given me the freedom and the encouragement to accomplish things that I wouldn’t have even considered without her love and support. Conversely I’ve tried to let Deb follow her dreams, too. And she’s allowed me to come along on that journey.

Paris in AprilWe’ve raised three kids, had multiple careers, lived on two continents, and traveled the world together. We’ve had grand moments and enjoyed simple pleasures. We’ve worked hard; played hard and tried to keep Christ in the center of our lives. Those of you that know Deb, know that she is the heart of our family; that friendships are lifelong; that her word is her bond; and that I’m the luckiest man on earth.

Lots of people love Debbie. And her love for others is boundless. But somehow God decided that I was the one who got to share this life with her. Through the good and bad; through the joys and sorrows; I’ve had this beautiful hand to hold. And I’ll never let go.

On this day (a few years ago) she was born and today seemed like a good day for me to tell her that I love this life we share. Heaven can wait – we’re still having too much fun right here.

Happy Birthday Deb. I love you!

Denis

A World of Brothers and Sisters

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At the World Youth Day in Brazil, Pope Francis asked young people to “create a world of brothers and sisters.” He also visited one of Rio’s notorious favelas (slums) to call attention to the poor, disenfranchised and marginalized.

What a message for our youth today: Love all people as a brother or sister and stop chasing material happiness to the detriment of those with less.

Pretty counter-cultural stuff. Do we as the parents and grandparents of today’s youth support these ideals? Do we show our love for our enemies by our words and actions? Do we support global justice? Where do we stand on immigration reform? These are not easy questions to answer. Who amongst us wants less for our own children? Isn’t the American Dream a set of ideals in which freedom includes the opportunity for prosperity and success, and an upward mobility? But should our personal success and upward mobility be at the expense of our brothers and sisters? As Christians shouldn’t we have a preference for the poor? Francis gives us much to ponder.

It’s hard sometimes to think globally. It’s too big. Too distant. It’s too removed from my world. It’s easy to dismiss Darfur or Egypt or the slums of Rio. But what about my brothers and sisters in my own community?

Recently two failing school districts in Saint Louis have requested help from other districts, one being the district in which I reside. Because these failing districts have lost their accreditation students graduating from their high schools find acceptance at colleges and universities nearly impossible. There is a myriad of reasons for these failures but mostly it is economic and poor kids are suffering. So while the Pope is imploring our youth to reach out to those in need; to create a world of brothers and sisters, some Christians in my community are fighting to keep these “unwanted students” out of our schools. There are concerns about property values, violence and drugs entering our school systems. This matter is further complicated by the fact that these two predominately black districts have requested help from two predominately white districts.

I understand and appreciate concerns for the safety of our children. I also realize that these are complex issues that the local media has reduced to sound-bites. But how can we foster “a world of brothers and sisters” across the ocean when we can’t peacefully and lovingly accept those brothers and sisters across the river? What would Jesus do?

I think that Francis is telling us. And I suspect that more prayer will be required…

Peace,

Denis

England to Oklahoma and back home…

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Last week I traveled back to England. It’s been nine months since we lived there and to be honest I’ve missed it quite a bit. Most things haven’t changed much in and around our old “stomping grounds”. Irish Anne is still the one-woman welcoming commitee at our wee Catholic church, St. Peter in Cirencester; the sea-salted chips at the Fleece are still the best I’ve ever had, especially when washed down with a Warsteiner; you can still get a decent pickle and cheese sandwich at Sainsbury for a quick lunch; Phil and Kirstie are still selling Real Estate on the telly; and Heart Radio relentlessly plays non-stop pop music (“Take me down like I’m a domino???!!!”).

EnglandThis was a quick trip: arrived on a Friday night and left on the following Thursday. Not nearly enough time to eat at all my favourite pubs or to visit all the museums, abbeys, and shops that we’ve come to love. This trip was solo, so of course Deb wasn’t there to enjoy it with me (or to make it more enjoyable for me). I was however able to reconnect with my workmates and share a pint or two and a few good laughs. (How do you know that the toothbrush was invented in Wales? Because if it was invented anywhere else it would be call the teethbrush.) I’ve heard that same joke here in the States – substitute Wales with Arkansas – but it’s truly funnier with a English accent (and a pint or two).

CowboyOn Friday morning, after arriving on a much delayed flight the night before, we drove to Oklahoma City to visit our son and daughter-in-law and bring our granddaughter home with us for a two-week visit. On our 1-1/2 days in Oklahoma City we visited the National Cowboy Museum. It was more enjoyable than I could have ever imagined. I love it when fun stuff is educational, too. There is some amazing art on display in the museum as well as a running history of cowboys and Native Americans. There are also sections devoted to the rodeo and to movie and television cowboys (I still remember the boyhood crush that I had on Dale Evans astride Buttermilk – Happy Trails indeed).

We were back home last night. And I’m back in my office today. Still processing some of the culture shock (overload?). It’s hard to travel from blokes to Oakies in one week. Not sure whether to “give it a go” or “hunker down” today. Perhaps I’ll do a little of both. And catch my breath.

Oh, and for the record, the toothbrush joke is funnier in Oklahoma if you use Arkansas in the punch line.

Happy Trails,

Denis

It’s Good And Good For You

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I’m blessed to be married to a good cook. Actually “good cook” is an understatement; great cook or fabulous cook is more accurate. It’s fair to say that we eat better than most. Our son who cooks professionally credits his mother for both his success in the kitchen and his love of food.

My standard line when served yet another delicious meal is usually, “It’s good and good for you.” Truth be told, the “good for you” might sometimes be a stretch. Someone much smarter than me once said, “Man cannot live by bread alone.” So occasionally we need a little butter or cheese or chocolate…

After living the better part of last year in England people often ask us if we miss our life there. The answer is always yes. When asked what we miss most, I usually say the food (and wine). There’s a common misperception in the U.S. that English food is bad. We found it to be quite to the contrary. The produce and meats and cheeses in our local markets were fresher and usually locally produced. And good French and Italian wines were inexpensive. English wine is lousy but this is made up for by the excellent cheese and goat butter.

Wild Duck Inn - Ewen, England

Wild Duck Inn – Ewen, England

Dining out in England could be at times challenging. There are plenty of ‘Fish and Chips’ shops and every village seems to have a Curry restaurant. Some of those places are a bit dodgy. But great restaurants can be found and often in unexpected places. Two of our favorites: The Wild Duck Inn located in a tiny village called Ewen and Cricklade House in Cricklade which is an old Saxon town. Both were just minutes from where we lived. Of course our best meals in England were served in Oaksey in our own cottage – thanks Deb!

I’ve never intentionally plugged a business in my blog but recently we had a restaurant experience that reminded us of some our best meals in England and Europe. We dined with great friends, which always makes a meal better, at a small restaurant just minutes from where we now live. Another amazing meal in an unexpected place. Stone Soup Cottage in Cottleville, Missouri is without a doubt the best dining experience we’ve had since leaving England (with the exception of Deb’s kitchen of course).

Chef Carl and his wife Nancy have converted a small house into an intimate restaurant. The food is beyond spectacular and the warm and welcoming environment add to the charm of the place. In Europe when you dine out you “own the table” for the evening. No one would ever bring you the check until you ask. None of this “I’m just leaving the check, please take your time.” which translates into “Please hurry up, we’d like to seat someone else at this table.” In much the same way at Stone Soup Cottage we were allowed to dine at our leisure. Carl’s creations were exquisite and Nancy’s wine pairings were perfect. We thoroughly enjoyed and savoured every morsel.

Dining at Stone Soup Cottage is not inexpensive and it might literally take months to get a reservation but it’s worth saving your pennies and planning ahead. After all, sometimes treating yourself really is “good and good for you.” And Deb deserves a break every now and again.

Bon appetit,

Denis

http://www.stonesoupcottage.com/