Prepare the Way

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

It’s easy to imagine that John the Baptist thought that he was the ‘only one’. The only one who knew what was coming. Maybe he was skulking around in the desert wearing animal skins because he was disgusted with the state of the world and the callous disregard of others. Or perhaps he was wandering around alone as a way to quiet himself enough to receive God’s message, but I’ll never quite understand why he ate locusts. Surely there was a better way to “prepare the way”.

Advent is a good time for me to stop trying to sort it all out and just accept what Jesus is asking of me. I try to quiet myself and listen to what is truly important. Mostly I fail. But sometimes Jesus shines through. Sometimes my heart is broken open enough to allow the love of God to fill my soul. And maybe that’s the point: the hurt, the despair, the loneliness, and the frustration that I feel when I look at all the sadness and madness in our world weakens me psychologically and spiritually. But when I am most vulnerable, when I feel alone in my anger and outrage, when I am broken, and crying out alone, I pray. And then Jesus helps me “prepare the way” in my heart and in my soul.

It’s messy. At times I feel powerless. And overwhelmed. I cry out “where are you God?” And then, I find strength in my friends and family. I find goodwill in my neighbors, and I find comfort in my faith community. I find love in those around me. I see Christ’s hands and feet in the countless folks who give so generously of their time, talent, and treasure to serve others. And I stop looking at others as “the others”.

Recently we prepared and served a meal at the Ronald McDonald House. It was a simple gesture to ease the suffering of the families whose children are hospitalized. As we were busy about our tasks, another group came in to “entertain” the children with decorating sugar cookies. Sadly, I was focused on “getting the job done” and paid little attention to those we were serving. And then, while we were cleaning up the kitchen, I noticed a young girl about 4 or 5 years old who obviously had multiple surgeries on her tiny hands. We learned that she was from Panama, and she spoke no English. She carefully decorated a cookie and with her one good hand presented it to one of our friends who had joined us for the evening. This little girl’s gentle offering was incredible. It was completely disarming. And a reminder that God is always with us.

Advent comes. And we prepare the way…

Peace,

Denis

The Weight

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Jesus said to the crowds: “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest.
Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.” Mt 11:28-30

The pop song “The Weight” was released in 1968 by The Band. The song takes place in Nazareth, where the singer encounters several colorful characters. The song’s writer, Robbie Robertson, has described it as something he threw together with no religious intent. Still, the lyrics do lead listeners to draw their own conclusions.

I pulled into Nazareth, was feelin’ about half past dead. I just need some place where I can lay my head.

“Hey, mister, can you tell me where a man might find a bed?” He just grinned and shook my hand, and “No” was all he said.

Today would have been my father-in-law’s birthday. He grew up dirt poor in Southeast Missouri. He lived a hard scrabble life as a kid. He earned pocket money killing rats in the cotton and watermelon fields as young boy. He lived in his grandparents’ home when his mother couldn’t afford a place of their own, but he never complained about his upbringing. He never voiced any regrets. Pop carried his burdens privately, with grace and dignity.

Unfortunately, I lack the grace and humility that my father-in-law possessed. I cry out in pain when my burdens seem insurmountable. I curse when life doesn’t meet my expectations. I rail against real and perceived injustices. My disappointments, my heartaches, my failures become overwhelming. And I often fail to listen to Jesus’ words. In my selfishness and solitude, I often lack the empathy to feel others’ pain. Then I re-read this Gospel, and I am reminded that I can take comfort in knowing we can all find our rest. Whether we cry out in pain, or suffer in silence, we are assured that Jesus will carry our burdens. But here’s the catch: turning over our burdens to Christ requires that we carry the load for others as well. Jesus said, “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me.” As Christians we’re called to follow Jesus’ example of love. Our burdens will be lessened as we join them with Jesus and help carry the load for others.

Take a load off (friend). And you put the load right on me.

“You will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.”

Peace,

Denis

Hoping

/ Denis Wilhelm / 3 Comments

Last week we went to a Christmas concert. During the beautiful hymn “O Holy Night”, we sang (well actually, this gifted tenor sang and invited us to join him) that Jesus’ “law is love and His Gospel is peace“. The song was performed so magnificently that it brought tears to my eyes. The words ‘love’ and ‘peace’ kept ringing in my ears long after the concert concluded.

In this second week of Advent, I hope that love and peace will prevail. In our world, in my home, in my heart. But here’s the thing about hope: it takes some work (and patience). I can hope. I can pray. I can wait. And then repeat as necessary. I suppose that’s the message of Advent. Keep hoping. Keep praying. Keep waiting.

So, once again I am reminded that Advent isn’t just a wreath and some candles; not just days on a calendar or something that I can passively watch as it passes by. I need to hope. I need to pray. I need to wait.

The author Anne Lamott writes: Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. You wait and watch and work: you don’t give up.

I am trying not to give up. I will actively, aggressively, long for His coming, not just as infant in Bethlehem, but in my heart, in in my home and, in our world today. I can hope for peace, pray for love and wait for an opportunity to share both.

According to his promise we await new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness dwells. Therefore, beloved, since you await these things, be eager to be found without spot or blemish before him, at peace. 2 Peter 3: 13-14

Hoping that I can clearly see my opportunities as I wait to share His love and bring His peace.

Advent blessings,

Denis

Watching and Waiting

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Advent began yesterday, four weeks of preparation to celebrate Jesus’ birth and welcome His love into our lives. I often consider Advent to be a rather passive and reflective time. Longing and hoping and praying for Jesus’ incarnation. The Gospel message, “Be watchful! Be alert! You do not know when the time will come”, reminds us that Advent is a time of waiting.

We wait. We wait in joyful anticipation of a better world. We wait for peace and the end of violence in all forms. We wait for acceptance and inclusion of all people to the table. We wait for sustainability and the promise of an earth that will exist for our children and grandchildren. We wait for change in our political climate and discourse. We wait in hope.

But is waiting enough? What about being watchful and alert? We must open our eyes and our hearts to the inclusivity of Jesus and his teachings. For me that means “looking in the mirror”. How often have I rejected others with whom I disagree? How many times have I dismissed someone because of their appearance, beliefs, politics, age or sexuality? God did not create us to hate us. So why is it so easy for me to hate others who don’t align with me politically, intellectually or spiritually? Why are “my values” more valuable than theirs?

I re-read yesterday’s Gospel: “May he not come suddenly and find you sleeping. What I say to you, I say to all: ‘Watch!’” There is my message. Wake up Denis! Stop finding ways to separate yourself from others. If I want inclusivity; I must include others (even the ones I can’t stand). If I want peace; I must give peace to everyone I encounter. If I want sustainability; I must model it for my children and my grandchildren. If I want reasonable and respectful political discourse; I must stand up for what I believe but take the time to listen to others as well.

I suppose that Advent is not such a passive time after all. Longing and hoping and praying for Jesus’ incarnation must include action. If I want the world to change, I must start with myself!

Peace,

Denis

Eat, Drink, and Be Merry (and thankful, too)

/ Denis Wilhelm / 2 Comments

This week we’re reminded constantly to be thankful. Afterall, tomorrow is Thanksgiving and it’s a national holiday and we’re supposed to stuff ourselves with turkey and all the other good stuff and count our blessings. So, while I’m feasting on a sumptuous meal, I’m supposed to carve out, forgive the play on words, a moment to be thankful that I’m able to gorge myself like Henry VIII or someone from Overeaters Anonymous. Seems like food for thought – again sorry for the metaphor.

Don’t get me wrong. I love food. And I love celebrating with family and friends. My wife is an amazing cook, and our house will be decorated perfectly, and our tables will be set beautifully. Everyone will bring a special dish and hopefully a healthy appetite, and I promise there will be a seasonal cocktail thrown in for good measure. Plenty for which to be thankful. Still, some years with all the shopping, and cooking and cleaning and table setting, it seems like we’ve bit off more than we can chew – oops, there I go again.

The truth is this apple didn’t fall far from the tree (I promise that’s probably the last one). My Mom loved to feed us, and she made special occasions really special with her attention to every detail and Dad loved to be up in the middle of family gatherings. So, to honor their memories and to thank God for their example, we will make every effort to make it seem effortless. We will be gracious and refrain from complaining about the expense, and how much work it was to get the house ready, and to prepare the meal. Because we have far too many frenetic, attention deprived, days in this world with which we find ourselves, we need to actually enjoy a little elegance. We need a day set apart. We need a day with cloth napkins. We need a day without fast food or microwave meals. We need a day where we dress up just little bit. We need to bring out the “good” dishes and polish the silver. We need a day where we can have a moment to be thankful for the abundance in our lives.

And after that second slice of pumpkin pie, while we’re sitting around chewing the fat (okay, really that’s the last one), we can truly be thankful for the blessings in our lives. We can reminisce about Thanksgivings gone by. We can plan for Thanksgivings of the future. The meals. The specials table settings. And most importantly, the love.

We thank God for the love we share.

Peace,

Denis

Wine-ing Is Better Than Whining

/ Denis Wilhelm / 2 Comments

My friend Bob is a wine maker. It’s a hobby, but his wines are extraordinary, and they just keep getting better. Recently we had the pleasure (and sore muscles) of helping him crush his 400+ pounds of grapes. No, we didn’t stomp on the grapes like that episode on “I Love Lucy”. Ours was a more sanitary process with nitrile gloves and crushing by hand. It took a team. Plenty of laughter and previous vintages were enjoyed by all.

It occurred to me that vintners must be optimists. You spend a lot of time and money and more time and more money to achieve the perfect blend. The “crush” is the just the first step in wine making. Then you must wait. You wait until the fermentation process begins and add acid and bacteria and “press” and “punch” the grapes and on and on. A lot of dedication and science and more waiting is required. Finally, weeks? months? later the stuff is bottled. And then the real waiting begins. 3 years? 5 years? 10 years? Only an optimist would work that hard on something that might not come to fruition. Or the wine might outlive you before it can be decanted! But my friend Bob is a “glass half full” kind of guy. In his case, it’s a glass half full of wine. God bless him.

Worrying about stuff is something I’m good at. It’s not exactly a hobby but it does consume a lot of my time. I worry about climate change, the wars in Europe and the Middle East, the sad state of U.S. political discourse, gun violence, racism, sexism, terrorism, and all the other “isms” that keep me awake at night. I worry about my grandchildren for all the regular kid stuff plus the extra crap that they’re carrying around now (active shooter drills, road rage, papillomavirus, the internet, bullying, cheating in school by using smart phones and hair styles from the 1970’s).

Where I get myself into trouble isn’t the worrying, it’s the whining. I whine about the how terrible things are or are going to be. I wring my hands and that hurts because of arthritis, and I bitch about that, too. In fact, my whining becomes contagious. It encourages others to whine. And often the pity-party ensues. Oh, woe are we! Everything is terrible and is only going to get worse. I used to scoff when my mother would proclaim that “the world is going to hell in a handbasket” and now I feel her pain. But whining doesn’t help anything or anyone. So, what’s a whining worrier to do?

Prayer helps. And looking forward. And hope.

Mostly I find my solace in the joy of others. Their optimism is transformative. My granddaughter Anna is an honor student and an actress and a student ambassador at her school. She is actively involved in the teen program at her church. She is also a rock-climber (which honestly worries me) who towers cliffs. But she is undaunted. She is so full of life! She is constantly attaining new heights both literally and figuratively. The entire world is in front of her, and nothing seems to slow her down or discourage her from achieving her goals. She’s crushing it! Mostly, she has the gift of being a joy-giver. She is that rare breed of person who makes you feel better by any encounter with her.

So, Bob and Anna remind me that the future is bright and worth waiting for. I thank God for their witness and their faith. They give me hope. And sometimes a really nice glass of wine.

No whining required.

Peace,

Denis

What? I’m Holy??!!!

/ Denis Wilhelm / 3 Comments

I recently read (again) that all Christians are called to holiness. I get that in the abstract, but I don’t usually think of myself as holy. I usually avoid holiness (or the perception of holiness). My problem is that I confuse holiness with piety or religiosity or self-righteousness. And I’m none of those things. In fact, I work hard not to appear to be pious or religious or self-righteous. There’s my stumbling block – appearance. Why am I so worried about appearing holy? Am I afraid to show my love for God and others?

All Christians in any state or walk of life are called to the perfection of love, and by this holiness a more human manner of life is fostered in earthly society. (Vatican II – Lumen Gentium 5:40).

So, love or the perfection of love is holiness? We are called to generous love, to closeness with God, to holiness. Dang it! I just want to be a good guy. A good husband, good dad, good granddad, good brother, good friend and good neighbor. Being holy has never been my goal, but I want to love others. If loving God and loving others makes me holy, then I guess, bring it on.

My heart aches for the violence and bloodshed in Israel. It’s impossible for me to understand the hate that compels such atrocities. The news reports are devasting and I confess that I have turned the television off a few times because watching it becomes unbearable. But I want to wrap my arms around the victims and their families. I pray that God will ease their suffering. Their plight seems hopeless, and my prayers seem feeble. Can one person sitting in the comfort and safety of his home make a difference? Holiness says yes.

A friend is battling cancer and has begun her chemo treatments. She is a young mother with such vitality and optimism and joy that it seems inconceivable that she should fall victim to this disease. I pray for her and her young family. I pray for healing and strength. Do my prayers matter? Holiness says yes.

Our oldest granddaughter is beginning her adult life. She is gay. She is opting for a less conventional path toward future employment – choosing an apprenticeship as an iron worker instead of college. I’m proud of the person she is – honest, loving, brave, but I worry about her future. Will uncertainty, hardship, and fear accompany her journey in life? I pray and I ask God to watch over her. Does it matter? Holiness says yes.

I suppose I should stop saying that I’m not holy. Holiness is a lifetime of conversion – a constant dance with God. I didn’t ask for holiness, but I’ve asked God for help, and I’ve thanked God for my blessings countless times.

I am learning (slowly) to perfect my love and to accept my call to holiness.

Peace,

Denis

What if the Prodigal Son had a Sister?

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

This is an updated repost from September 2011.

I have two sons and a daughter. The sons both live a distance from us – one in Wisconsin and one in Oklahoma. The daughter lives nearby. We see the sons (if we’re lucky) a couple of times a year. We see the daughter (and we are lucky) several times a week.

When we talk (or FaceTime) with our sons, it’s usually about important upcoming events and significant happenings – graduations, anniversaries, birthdays, travel, careers, etc. When we talk to our daughter, it can be mundane – what’s for dinner, aches and pains, what’s going on at school, the weather, etc.

It occurred to me recently that perhaps our daughter might sometimes feel like the older brother of the Prodigal Son. Needless to say, she’s here day-in and day-out listening to our latest complaints and answering our latest requests – always supportive, always cheerful, always ready for more. When “the boys” come to town it’s cause célèbre. And she often helps plan and carry out whatever festivities take place. By contrast, when she comes to dinner, she’s expected to set the table, help prepare the meal and clean up afterwards. Hardly seems fair…

But fairness is never part of the equation. Bess (our beautiful and gracious daughter) has inherited her mother’s gift of charity. She seldom thinks of herself first. She wants EVERYONE to be happy (and cared for, and well fed, and loved, etc.). She always gives of herself, and she rarely expects anything in return. Her cheerfulness is contagious, and she makes others happy by just being around her (again – a gift from her mother).

She’s here. She’s available. She’s constant. And I know that they say (whoever they are) that familiarity breeds contempt. But in our case, it seems to me that familiarity creates family. We are family. And I need my daughter. And I hope she knows how much I love and appreciate her. I try to tell her in lots of small ways because we rarely have big celebrations for her and Travis and their children. We just have small celebrations and familiar and comfortable times together. And for me those small intimate gatherings are almost always more meaningful than the grand events planned for our sons.

And because of who she is, I doubt that Bess has ever resented her brothers or felt pushed aside when we “slaughter the fatted calf.” But just in case, she should know:

My (daughter), you are here with me always; everything I have is yours. ~ Luke 15:31

Peace,

Denis (Dad)

Living Vicariously

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

It’s some grandparents’ prerogative to think that their grandchild is exceptional. It’s my prerogative to know that mine is. I have been living vicariously through my grandson Noah since his birth. He has afforded me an exception to every adult rule. It was okay to giggle, make funny faces, or even cry sometimes when he was a baby. It was perfectly acceptable to roll around on the floor and play with toys when he was a toddler. Taking those first steps and mastering each new skill assured us both of our invincibility. Singing silly sounds and laughing too loudly was practically expected when he was a preschooler. School days and sports activities gave us a chance to learn (and learn anew) the value of education and teamwork. Receiving sacraments and praying together brought us closer to God and to one another. Many times, I have thought, “I wish I had been a better student, a better athlete, a better friend”. Then I see him achieving things that I could have only dreamed of, and I realize that he is my second chance. An opportunity to live those dreams through him. That’s a lot to put on a little guy, but he loves me, and he lets me come along for the ride. It’s been sublime.

Today he becomes a teenager. A TEENAGER. This is unchartered territory. He’s never been there, and I’ve forgotten or blocked out most of my teen years. Will we share the angst? Will we share the joys and heartaches together? I guess it’s time to ‘buckle-up’. I do remember that my teenage years were bumpy. I pray that his will be better.

Someone once said that Noah is the ‘complete package’ – straight “A” student, good athlete, faith-filled, joyful, kind, and loving. I know of course that I am incomplete. His witness fills those hollow places in my heart and my soul.

I realize that I may soon become irrelevant. It’s not malicious; it’s just how life sometimes works out. Grandparents are easy to ‘put-on-shelf’ so to speak. Drag them out for holidays, birthdays, etc. If that happens, my hope is that I can handle it with grace and dignity. Still, I’ll keep living vicariously through Noah. He won’t need to know that I’ll be learning (again) how to drive and how to deal with the ups and downs of team sports and how to navigate the mysterious world of the opposite sex, and trigonometry. It’s okay if he begins to keep me at arms-length. I will be perfectly fine just sitting on the sidelines and watching this beautiful boy become a man.

As long as I can cheer and fear and pray, he will be with me, and I will be with him. You see, I’m not quite ready to grow up. I believe that we still have some amazing years ahead of us. He likely has no idea how much I need to live those years through him and with him. But I hope that he knows I’m always here when (and if) he needs me.

Peace,

Denis

Noah found favor in the eyes of the Lord ~ Genesis 6:8

Can You Hear Me Now?

/ Denis Wilhelm / 2 Comments

I feel that lately I spend a lot of time trying to hear something or someone. In this world of constantly evolving technological advancements, we have FaceTime and Zoom and Hands-Free mobile phone calls and Smart TV’s that adjust the sound according to what we’re watching (except commercials, those are always too loud). Still, I often myself not hearing well enough. My wife believes that I need hearing aids, but I believe what I truly need are ‘listening’ aids.

There’s a lot of noise out there and I have tinnitus which only adds to the cacophony. My struggle is parsing what I need to hear from that which is just noise. It’s not easy. Because I don’t want to miss anything, I try to listen to everything. And my nearly constant, “I’m sorry, what was that?”, becomes annoying to those around me. I’ve even tried to stop talking so much in an attempt to hear others speak, but I’ve proven to be a failure at that particular skill.

So, what’s a poor listener to do?

First, I need to remind myself that everyone has a story to tell. How often have I heard the phrase or seen the plaques that read, “Tell Your Story, Sing Your Song”? What I need is a plaque that reads, “Listen to Their Story, Listen to Their Song, but First: Put Yourself in Their Shoes”. Not as catchy and not ready for the Hallmark® shelves but if you find it on Etsy®, I should probably get some royalties.

How often do I ask someone, “How are you?”, only to be told, “I’m fine.” And I’m off and running. Rarely does anyone tell me how they really are and sadly, if they do, chances are I really don’t want to hear the details. “Fine” is just fine. Putting on my brakes and listening, really listening takes time and requires me to engage; to be present; to care. This is not always convenient. And it’s definitely not easy. Listening is something that I must consciously choose to do. Listening requires patience, thoughtfulness and commitment. These are things that I often find in short supply.

As I often do in times of frustration, uncertainty, self-doubt or just plain, old stupidity, I pray. I pray that God grants me the patience to listen (really listen) to others. I pray for discernment to tune out the noise in order to focus on the present. I pray for the empathy to walk in another’s shoes. I pray that I fight the urge to compose a response in my head while others are still trying to tell me their story.

And I listen for God’s forgiveness when I fail.

Peace,

Denis