Spirituality

Precious Blood

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

As an associate member of The Most Precious Blood Community, this week I had the privilege of visiting the Precious Blood Ministry of Reconciliation located on Chicago’s Southside in the Back of the Yards and Englewood neighborhoods.

When PBMR was established in 2002 it mostly served young people who were re-entering the community after incarceration or were still incarcerated. Entering society after spending several years in prison brings several hurdles. PBMR believed that through relationships and strong community they could offer hospitality and accompaniment to those in need.

Today the ministry has grown to include all those impacted by violence.

PBMR works to create safe spaces for youth where they can grow and play apart from the violence, poverty, and trauma of their daily lives. Mentors offer youth opportunities to learn healthy life skills and just enjoy being a kid through community activities.

Many young adults in this community face tremendous challenges as they navigate street violence, incarceration, and family conflict. Case Managers accompany young adults as they work toward achieving their goals, whether it means visiting them in prison, going into their homes, or accompanying them to court. They identify needs and acquire resources to help youth heal and move forward.

The Women Forward Initiative seeks to engage women in activities that unite, heal and strengthen each participant in their physical, emotional, financial and spiritual development. It is dedicated to accompanying women and families impacted by the effects of violence and incarceration. They work with girls and women, especially mothers who have faced tragedy.

Meeting one of the mothers who was profoundly impacted by violence has changed my notion of Precious Blood. I’ve always thought of the “Precious Blood” as Christ’s Blood and of course, it is. But my understanding of precious blood has now been challenged to consider that our blood is also precious, that each of us has Christ’s saving blood running through our veins. While this mother retold the story of losing her son to violence, she refused to say he had passed away or that he had died, she wouldn’t even say that he had been killed. Her words: “My son was murdered.” She refuses to describe his death in any other manner. He was murdered. He had been shot in the face. When I had an opportunity to speak with her privately, I thanked her for her honesty. We cried and hugged and grieved as I suppose only parents can do. It felt as though she was hugging her son as she embraced me. I couldn’t help but think of my own boys, and I desperately wanted to feel their touch at that moment. She told me that she had been given the honor of holding her boy in her arms the day he was born and the honor of holding his bloody head in those same arms on the day he was murdered. I have no words to adequately describe her strength. This mother has amazing energy, faith, joy and love. I am humbled by her spirit. I cannot even imagine how she carries on as she gives back to the community that murdered her son. She works at the center helping other families navigate life after unimaginable devastation, loss and heartache. She provides radical hospitality to all whom she encounters as she honors the son who was lost.

And his precious blood.

Peace,

Denis

Learn more about the important work that PBMR does: https://www.pbmr.org/

Feast Day

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

Today is the Feast Day of St. Denis. Feast days in the Church seem archaic and arcane. Perhaps that’s why I like celebrating them. They’re a reminder that our Church is ancient and mysterious and somehow still enduring.

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. Also, Denis is the patron saint of headache sufferers, frenzy and strife. This is not surprising considering that six-mile trek while carrying his own severed head!

Of course, I admire the “saintly” saints who prayed and fasted and gave up all worldly possessions to follow Jesus’ call, but Denis was a badass who defied his Roman persecutors! Not only was he tough but he was cool. Let’s call it grace under pressure – extreme pressure.

I keep celebrating feast days amidst the ugliness and uncertainty in our world today. When I forget that love should be my guiding principle and I refuse to accept all my sisters and brothers, I believe that I am turning my back on God.

Julian of Norwich, a 14th century mystic, wrote, “God is all that is good. God has created all that is made. God loves all that he has created. And so, anyone who, in loving God, loves all his (or her) fellow creatures.” Julian was a woman who lived during the bubonic plague and still found joy in all creation. I am comforted by the knowledge that our Church is ancient and universal and that Julian’s wisdom still speaks to me today. I am reminded that I continue to make mistakes; to exclude; to blame; to punish. I need the example of the Saints to ask for God’s forgiveness. I sometimes get weary from lugging my own head around – full of certainty and self-righteousness, but often lacking compassion.

How many times in history have we nearly undone the gift of Church that God has given us? I wish all Christians would remember that we are the Church. I believe that there is room at the table for us all. We can honor those who have come before us and thank God for the wisdom they have shared. We can pray for those who will follow us and show them that love is never a mistake.

A feast day is as good a time to do both. Jesus loves saints and sinners.

Saint Denis pray for me!

Peace,

Denis

Sweet Thirteen

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

Today another grandchild becomes a teenager. I’m convinced that our Ainsley is the sweetest teenager you will ever meet. She has an uncanny ability shared by few. Call it grace. Call it charm. Call it serendipity. Call it what you like. I call it a gift, because you will always feel better after any encounter with her. She carries her own light within her wherever she goes. And she shares that light with you.

Ainsley is quiet and thoughtful. She approaches new experiences with curiosity and poise. She doesn’t demand attention. She doesn’t need to be the center of attention, but don’t underestimate her. At her tender age she has already earned a black belt in Taekwondo. She is a disciplined and accomplished student and has won awards for academics, singing and leadership at her school.

Navigating through the teenage years can be tough. New freedoms. New rules. New friends. New temptations. And lots of demands on kids’ time. Teenageville can be a scary place. But this little light of mine, she shines!

Ainsley has strong faith. She loves deeply. She gives selflessly. And when you encounter her, you will feel better. You will feel better about your day. You will feel better about yourself. You will feel better about this world.

There are days when I want her to stay innocent and tender and untouched by ugliness, sexism, misogyny, discrimination, and hatred. But we need her to become the strong, confident woman she is destined to be. Because we need the gift that Ainsley shares to be spread throughout this world.

Peace,

Denis

Won’t You Be My Neighbor?

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When our kids were young, they loved Mr. Rogers. Truth be told, so did I.

In a hyperactive world of Superheroes, Voltron, Rainbow Brite, He-Man, My Little Pony and Cabbage Patch Kids, Fred Rogers was an anomaly. He was an island of peace and gentility in a sea of turmoil and marketing frenzy. His steady, mild manner was comforting and reassuring. Mr. Rogers spoke to children, not at them. And the only thing he was “selling” was dignity and self-respect.

The characters on his show remain fond memories: Daniel Tiger, Lady Elaine, and Mr. McFeely. And some of his catchphrases still remain in my vocabulary today, only to confuse adults when I utter, “Correct as usual, King Friday”. The concept of the show was simple yet profound and always had a calming influence on my children and their father as well. We learned things; we visited a crayon factory to see how they were made, or about body image issues with a catchy tune (your body’s fancy and so is mine) or we rode along on electric cars (long before anyone knew of Elon Musk), and Mr. Rogers showed us how some children live with special needs. Fred Rogers satisfied our curiosity with gentleness, kindness and humor. He helped us deal with challenging subjects with thoughtfulness and respect.

I have been an associate with a religious community for several years. It is something that I would have never considered possible as a young person: not holy enough, not too prayerful, not well-versed in scripture. But here I am (again) learning to love my neighbor. As I was reflecting on this past Sunday’s commitment ceremony, with the Sisters of the Most Precious Blood, Mr. Rogers Neighborhood crossed my mind. Each year, as associates (Partners in Mission), we recommit to spiritual growth and service to others. In addition, we welcome new Partners to join us on this mission. This year seven new members decided to come along on our journey.

The idea of welcoming our neighbors seems simple. It’s easy to welcome the neighbors who look like us and act like us and talk like us. The challenge of our Precious Blood community is to be a welcoming presence to all we encounter. That’s where it gets a little messy. I have to love the neighbor who doesn’t keep his yard well groomed? I have to love the neighbor who drives too fast down our little lane? I have to love the neighbor whose dog never stops yapping? I have to love the neighbor who never returns a friendly wave? The answer is yes.

And it gets harder: I have to love the neighbor who votes against all that I hold dear? The ones who vote for issues and candidates that I abhor? I have to love the neighbors who are racist, elitist, sexist, misogynistic, and homophobic? Again, the answer is yes.

The Sisters and Partners in my community continue to reinforce the charism of reconciliation. Their examples of love and forgiveness humble me. They accept me as I am; in my sinfulness, and weakness; in my struggles and failures. They remain with me always. Along with them, I choose to deepen my relationship with God and strive to heal our broken world.

Sometimes the first step is offering kindness and understanding to my neighbor. Or accepting someone’s offer of kindness and understanding to me.

Peace,

Denis

The commandments, “You shall not commit adultery; you shall not kill; you shall not steal; you shall not covet,” and whatever other commandment there may be, are summed up in this saying, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Romans 13:9

Good luck getting that little ditty out of your head…

Humbled

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

It might seem absurd, but I’ve always prayed that my children and grandchildren would have a humbling experience in their lives. Please understand, I don’t want them to have to deal with overwhelming pain or suffering or heartache, just a little “kick in the butt” that will help them remember that they are not invincible.

I think we all need to be reminded that we are not truly self-made, but we are the product of our genetics, our raising and our beliefs. Above all, we are treasured creations of God. Accepting that we can make mistakes (even big ones) and are forgiven is a blessing and a comfort. Understanding that we have people in our lives who will help pick us up and/or help us pick up the pieces should console us even in our darkest hours.

Confidence is a good thing. Intelligence is valuable and skill-mastery is crucial, but we should never forget that love is essential to our existence. When I think of the times (there have been many) that I have been humbled, I always remember the love that carried me through. Humility allowed me to accept the kindness and forgiveness of those I have disappointed. Of course, it has always been harder to forgive myself. Like most of us, I am still a work in progress. I’m learning to accept those setbacks, disappointments and mistakes, and to forgive myself. And I am humbled by God’s grace.

In his book “God’s Voice Within”, Mark Thibodeaux writes:

“I may have failed miserably at some task. I may be confused about where I am in life or angry about something that has happened. But if my anger motivates me to push for justice or truth, if my confusion leads me to trust in God more than myself, if my failure or sadness leads me to reach out to the people in my life then perhaps those negative experiences aren’t so negative after all.”

Perhaps we can find some joy in our mistakes. If being humbled allows me to reach out to the people in my life and accept their understanding, their help, their forgiveness, and their love, I am truly blessed. If my humility makes me more empathetic to others misfortune or opens my eyes to injustice and cruelty in our world, then perhaps I can be an instrument of healing and comfort.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not going out of my way to screw up. I can do that without even trying. But I can accept my failings and be humbled by the love of God through those who allow me to fail and still love me.

More importantly, I can be someone who accepts others’ failings and comforts them and loves them as they are humbled. So, go on and climb those mountains, take on this big world, and be the best that you can be. But if you are humbled, you should know that you are never alone.

Peace,

Denis

Is It Helpful?

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

A good friend recently shared with me that when we speak, we should pause and ask our ourselves three simple questions:

Is it timely?

Is it honest?

Is it helpful?

I must admit, for me, the first two questions are no-brainers.

Is it timely? Deliver your message at the right moment, when it can have the most impact. And please, let’s only talk about things that are happening now or will be happening soon or what we wish could happen. Let’s not dwell on past mistakes, old grievances, and missed opportunities. Nothing good can come from those conversations. Drudging up the “coulda, shoulda, wouldas” only serves to sap us mentally, emotionally and spiritually. Makes sense.

Is it honest? Honesty builds trust. Before speaking, ask yourself if the information is true. Do your research. Fact-check. Consider the source. Misinformation or exaggeration can erode relationships and create confusion. Hearsay and conspiracy theories make you look foolish and shows lack of respect for the person with whom you are speaking. Don’t waste anyone’s time with nonsense, rumors and inuendo. Just know and tell the truth. Simple.

Is it helpful? This is the tricky part. Honestly, this is my biggest stumbling block. It might be helpful for me to get something off my chest or get my point across or make what matters to me the most important thing to say at any given moment. But that doesn’t consider the other person(s) experience or point of view. Still, it feels really good to be right. It serves my ego to be the “authority” on any given subject. I can bask in the glory of superiority and self-assuredness when I am the smartest and most informed person in the room. I can impart my wisdom, and the receivers should be grateful. And then God kicks me in the head and awakens me to a memory of a conversation that I had many years ago with our 7-year-old daughter. She was frustrated with her classmates who weren’t learning as quickly as she was, and the teacher would repeat lessons that our second grader had already mastered. She just couldn’t understand why the others couldn’t learn as fast as she did. I told her that it was okay to be the smartest person in the room, but it is unnecessary and unkind to remind everyone of that fact. Now, to be clear, I’m definitely not the smartest person in the room, only sometimes the loudest, most self-serving, opinionated, and arrogant. Not helpful.

Recently at the gym there was a young man wearing a black t-shirt with bold white letters stating, “I HATE SATAN”. I wanted to tell him that the message was confusing and counter intuitive. It seemed like an oxymoron. Jesus asks us to love everyone. That should include Satan. We needn’t follow Satan, but more hatred in our world seems like exactly the thing Satan is hoping to achieve. I decided that having a theological debate with this young man would not be helpful. So, maybe I’m learning. Also, I was wearing a t-shirt with the emblazoned message “Schnitzel Happens” so I suppose that I wouldn’t have been taken seriously anyway.

Then I laughed at my own foolishness. And that was helpful.

Peace,

Denis

Sweating the Small Stuff

/ Denis Wilhelm / 2 Comments

How many times in my life have I heard someone say, “Don’t sweat the small stuff?” Usually, it’s meant to comfort me when I’m feeling anxious about something that appears to be trivial to another. Or offered as an excuse or permission to fail to meet some expectation not shared by the person offering the solace. And there are scores of books written about not sweating the small stuff. You can purchase wall plaques, pendants, caps, key fobs, t-shirts, etc., all emblazoned with the phrase.

Little things

There seems to be a universal assumption that small things don’t matter. That unless something has monetary or political or social or intellectual significance, it is not worthy of our time. But I think that little things do matter. So, I will continue to sweat the small stuff.

After all, if the best things in life come in small packages then why not give them their proper attention and respect? The idiom, “The devil is in the details” implies that there is something hidden in the details; something that might seem simple at a first but will reveal itself to be more than expected.

I prefer the phrase “God is in the details”. The little things. Watching the moon rise on a starry night. Seeing storm clouds gather from the safety of your front porch. Taking a walk on a dewy morning. The sweet smell of a summer rain. That first cup of coffee in the morning. A favorite book. Resting under a shady tree. Hearing a child’s laughter. Receiving a friendly smile. Or a soft touch. Or a kind word. Letting a tear roll down your cheek. Simple things perhaps but hidden inside each of these is comfort, joy and love. And I believe God is there, too.

I’m sweating the small stuff. I will take the time to appreciate the details. I will hold the door for you. I will carry your load if you let me. I will set the table properly. I will use good penmanship. I will clean my house and mow my lawn. I will drive courteously. I will try to be a good citizen; a good neighbor; a good friend. I will say thank you and please and you’re welcome.

But more importantly I will say I love you. And I will say it again. And again. I want the gifts that I give to be wrapped literally and figuratively in all the beauty that I can muster. The gifts that I have to share may not be significant or of any financial value. In fact, in the grand scheme of things, my gifts are all just small stuff. But I will sweat them out. Anything less would have no meaning…

Peace,

Denis

Do to others whatever you would have them do to you. Matthew 7:12

Did You Hear the Latest News?

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

Each and every day there seems to be more and more troubling news. The senseless war in Iran. The skyrocketing gas prices. Cost of living and healthcare costs increasing dramatically. Cuts to environmental protection. Deportations. Redistricting plans. Supreme Court decisions. Political retributions. James Comey’s indictment. The White House Ballroom. The vitriol social media comments coming from the President. And his name and face being plastered on everything from our passports to our currency.

It is exhausting. And perplexing.

The political divides have never been greater in my lifetime. There is no longer public discourse. Just finger-pointing and name-calling. Fear mongering and villainization of our enemies is commonplace. Mostly there is hatred. And ugliness.

Oh, yes, and let’s not forget to pull God into it as well. Afterall, if God is with us who can be against? Some of the most hateful rhetoric comes complete with God’s “seal of approval”. Is God really on our side against the Iranians? Does God want us to “blow up the whole country” and destroy their civilization? Does God truly want children separated from their parents who are seeking a better, safer life to be imprisoned for a misstep in the immigration process? Does God want us to punish our perceived enemies or anyone who would disagree with us?

If you listen to many of our political leaders, it seems so. If I listen to some of my neighbors, it seems like God is on the side of racism, marginalization, hate and destruction. If I listen to some of the folks I worship with each week, it appears that as long as abortion remains mostly illegal, we can just rationalize all the rest of the shitty stuff.

In his book “God Plays a Purple Banjo”, S. James Meyer challenges me. He writes: “How do we measure up? If we profess our love for God without practicing love for neighbor, we might be religious but not always spiritual. If we receive Holy Communion in the church but don’t become Holy Communion in the world, we might be religious but not spiritual. If we pray for peace but harbor hatred, pray for forgiveness but judge others, or pray for the poor while profiting from systems that create or exploit poverty, we might be religious but not spiritual.”

Jesus never told us to hate our enemies. Jesus never told us hurt one another. Jesus never asked us to fight.

Instead, Jesus said: “Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy. Blessed are the clean of heart, for they will see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.“

Friends, how do we measure up?

Peace,

Denis

A Memorial and much more…

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

Thirty-one years ago, today the unthinkable happened. At 9:01AM the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City was bombed by anti-government extremist Timothy McVeigh.

Recently we had the opportunity to visit the Oklahoma City National Memorial and Museum. 168 lives were lost in the senseless massacre on April 19, 1995. And many more lives were changed forever.

The Memorial and Museum has done an excellent job in telling the story of that day. With first-hand accounts of survivors and rescue workers and reporters, the day unfolds as a normal and beautiful spring morning. It’s chilling to walk through the exhibit and witness the devastation and heart-wrenching to listen to the painful stories of grief and loss of friends and family members of the victims.

So many images of heroic rescues and heart-breaking recoveries are displayed. Many of you will remember the iconic photo of a fire fighter cradling tiny Baylee Almon in his arms. When she was handed to him, she was still alive, but sadly she too succumbed to injuries. Chairs are placed on the grounds of the memorial for each of the victims where the Murrah Building once stood. Portions of the original structure outline the grounds of the memorial. Nearby you can see the steeple of Old St. Joseph’s Cathedral. A massive shallow pool, reflecting the clouds and the trees, adds solemn dignity to the space. Baylee Almon’s chair stands among the others as a reminder of her precious young life.

The memorial recounts the day, the rescues, the recoveries, the trials, the legal maneuvering, and how one horrific incident changed our nation forever. Security measures at Federal buildings were installed in an effort to avoid this type of tragedy from ever occurring again. But more significantly is the story of how one community and in turn one nation rallied to bring aid and comfort to those who were suffering.

A republican governor and democratic president worked together to restore order and provide healing to the city and to the nation. Religious leaders joined in ecumenical efforts to help make sense of the madness and assure that God had not abandoned us at this most desperate time. One of the most touching tales was of a volunteer who was collecting donations of shoes. The need was so great, due to the massive amount of broken glass for blocks surrounding the bombing. A man got out of his car and handed the volounteer a single pair of boots that were gently worn. As he walked away, she realized he was barefoot.

This is a lesson for today. This is a lesson for me. As a lay associate of the Sisters Most Precious Blood, I try to be a reconciling presence to others. It is our charism. I struggle with this. It’s too easy to choose sides. It’s comforting (in a perverse sort of way) to hate those with whom I disagree. We all spend too much time building walls instead of bridges.

God, enable me to be an instrument of reconciliation and healing that is so needed in our world today. Allow me to reflect your presence, your wisdom, and your abiding love. And as I reflect on the precious blood that was spilled on that fateful day, give me the strength to give my shoes to someone in need, regardless of their political persuasion or beliefs or appearance or circumstance.

Peace,

Denis

Hippity, Hoppity, Easter’s on its way!

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

The origins of the Easter Bunny are unclear, but he is mentioned in early German writings. The first edible Easter bunnies appeared in Germany in the 1800s and were made out of sugar and pastry. As a kid I often wondered what the Easter Bunny had to do with eggs. Polish folklore has the Virgin Mary offering eggs to the soldiers guarding Christ on the cross, as she begged them to be merciful, her tears left stains on the eggs. Eggs and bunnies and candy. There are so many conflicting images that all seem to converge at Easter in some pastel menagerie with chocolate and jellybeans thrown in for good measure.

Easter

I’ve read commentaries by some Christian writers complaining about the commercialization of Easter; how Easter is demeaned by the purchase of candy and greeting cards, etc. Easter-related spending in the United States is expected to reach about $25 billion in 2026, on everything from Easter candy to new clothes. But wasn’t Easter originally a pagan feast to celebrate spring? Painting and dying eggs pre-dates Christianity. It seems that early Christians just conveniently supplanted what was already a festival. Sort of, “Hey, we already have a party – let’s make it about Jesus!”

As a Christian, I’m not really bothered that Easter was formally a pagan feast day. I’m equally undisturbed with the Easter Bunny sharing the day that celebrates the Resurrection of Jesus Christ. If we find new life in Christ, why not celebrate the new life around us? And if you’re not a Christian, I still hope that you can enjoy a dyed egg and a chocolate bunny (or whatever means springtime to you). According to the National Confectioners Association’s survey 87% of people create an Easter basket for their kids. This just makes for happy kids. It needn’t diminish the importance of Easter. To the contrary, it should emphasize the joy we share. Why not “wear your Easter bonnet, with all the frills upon it?”

For Christians this is our Holy Week. This is the most sacred time in our Church calendar. We celebrate and remember the passion and death of Jesus. We begin this week with Palm Sunday and continue through Holy Thursday and Good Friday, as we journey with Jesus to the cross. On Saturday at the Easter Vigil, we celebrate His rising anew. Through His death and resurrection, we are saved!

This year I’ve decided that instead of being annoyed with the secularization of Easter, I will embrace the world that God has given us. Whether I encounter those who are thankful for a Savior or folks who are just thankful for spring weather, I will try to share their joy. As some of my friends celebrate Passover and others are looking forward to a long weekend, why create conflict? Instead of looking for something to be angry about or focusing on our differences I will try to bring peace and reconciliation to those I meet.

I believe that God created a world big enough for all of us. So I’ll be singing Alleluia on Easter and later if I spy a bunny in my garden or a jellybean should find its way to me, so much the better.

Peace,

Denis

He is not here, for he has been raised just as he said. Matthew 28:6