Relating To The World

It’s the second week of Advent and I’m feeling the pressure to be more holy (or holy at all, in my case). So I’m lighting my Advent wreath and reflecting on how I celebrate our Savior’s birth. Can I love God and love our modern (sometimes tacky) celebration of Christmas, too? Must they be mutually exclusive?

Merriam-Webster defines the word secular as: Relating to worldly concerns; not overtly or specifically religious. That doesn’t sound so menacing to me. And yet I’m constantly hearing about the evils of the secular world in which we live. It seems that lately our priests’ homilies are filled with warnings about being consumed by our secular society. On the first Sunday of Advent we were admonished for placing gift-giving, holiday decorating, and Santa Claus before Christ. Somehow those things are equated with secularism and by association deemed contrary to what Christmas should really be about.

Second Week of Advent

Sometimes I think that we get so caught up in protecting our traditions we forget that some of our most sacred Christian celebrations – Easter and Christmas were placed on the calendar to take advantage of earlier non-Christian feasts. People were already partying at the spring and winter equinoxes so why not just slip Christ’s resurrection and birth into those time slots? Did we in fact Christianize earlier pagan feasts? I don’t know – maybe. But who cares? Is Christ’s birth and life on Earth less significant if he wasn’t actually born on December 25th? Is his resurrection any less meaningful because of when we celebrate?

Living in the world today, spending too much money on silly Christmas presents and decorating a tree doesn’t define our belief in Christ any more than the likelihood that we celebrate his birth on what was once a pagan feast day.

The Lord is patient with you, not wishing that any should perish but that all should come to repentance.     2 Peter 3:9

I know that “Jesus is the reason for the season” but as a Christian I believe that he’s also the reason there’s a world to live in. So I’ll try to relate to it the best that I can. It just so happens that some of his creation likes a little tinsel, eggnog and “Jingle Bells” blasting from their iPods. I suspect that God is not offended but merely amused when I’m “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” or playing Santa with my grandkids. And for the record, in our house, we all sing “O Come O Come Emmanuel” at the dinner table after lighting our Advent wreath, too. Somehow it works because at the center of it all is love. Isn’t that what Jesus asked us to do?

Peace,

Denis

Patience (or lack thereof)

Last Wednesday Deb and I went to our favorite Chinese restaurant for lunch. We enjoyed our ‘usual’ – hot braised chicken and a cup of tea. When the fortune cookies arrived I switched them around so that the one nearest me would become Deb’s and vice versa. Here’s how they read. Deb’s: “your charm will bring you something wonderful soon”. Mine: “you must remain patient in order for good things to come your way”.
 
Deb’s charming and will get something wonderful? And I need to be patient? This was a little too close to the truth! We both laughed but Deb laughed a little too hard and said something like, “Boy that fortune cookie was made especially for you, ha, ha, ha, ha!” I immediately lost patience with the fortune cookie game – it was time to go!
 
Patience is a virtue that I’ve witnessed in others but rarely experienced myself. I tell myself that I don’t have time to be patient – that’s what impatient people do. Besides after lunch I had to rush out and get Deb something wonderful. She on the other hand has plenty of patience. Of course I would be patient too if my ‘charm’ alone could bring me untold treasure!
 
I’ve been thinking a lot about patience as we enter this season of Advent. For the next four Sundays we will be reminded to  S L O W D O W N  and be patient. We are expected to wait. We are told to be hopeful. Our salvation is (almost) at hand. But waiting alone is not enough. Being hopeful about the good things to come isn’t the complete answer either. Impatient people like me, try to “gird our loins” and tough it out so that we can get through these weeks of waiting. We prove our worth by being watchful and ready to embrace the impending joy of Christ’s coming.
 
But that misses the point. The beauty is the waiting. The joy is in embracing the longing. The peace comes when we surrender ourselves to God’s plan. True patience then is actively living in the present. It requires us to let go of our need to finish the game; win the race; get to the prize. The true joy of Advent is acceptance. Accepting our here and now; for better or worse. We live with the hope of better things to come but we must love and treasure what we have now if we are to truly be fulfilled in the future.
 
That’s a tall order for the impatient amongst us. But with God’s help and your prayers…
 
Lord, we are the clay and you our potter: we are all the work of your hand. Isaiah 64:7
 
Peace,
 
Denis

What Matters Most Is The Thanks

I’m a sucker for tradition. I love old movies. I love family folklore. I want to believe that “the way” we do things at Thanksgiving is the way generations before us celebrated as well. I love the fact that Deb shares the same need for traditional holiday gatherings (with some southern country flair compliments of her beloved Mimi). We’ve blended our family traditions and created some new ones of our own. So on Thanksgiving there will be turkey and dressing and candied sweet potatoes and brussels sprouts and cranberries and pumpkin pie – just like the Pilgrims (well at least in my revisionist history of the First Thanksgiving anyway).

But it has occurred to me that none of that really matters. How can you celebrate Thanksgiving WITHOUT turkey? Or Stuffing? Or Sweet Potatoes? Or Cranberries? Or God Forbid – Pumpkin Pie???

We have dear friends that have traveled east to visit family and celebrate an ‘Italian Thanksgiving’ complete with lasagna.  My cousin Colleen who lives in Thailand can’t get pumpkin for a pie this year. Our son Ty is stationed at Kunsan Air Base in South Korea and will likely be eating in a mess hall and missing Mom’s special recipes. And millions of folks will be having Thanksgiving pizza, sub sandwiches, burgers or God-knows-what. And they’re (we’re) the lucky ones. Millions more will be starving.

But those of us that can give thanks, should. We should be thankful for one another. Thankful for love. Thankful for a full belly. And a place to lay our heads. Thankful for a God that provides light even in our darkest hours.

There is certainly no shortage of pain or heartache or suffering in our world. And perhaps you’re suffering, too. For me Thanksgiving this year is a little bittersweet; feeling especially melancholy about the separation next year from family and friends (especially my grandkids). Yesterday I was feeling down and then I received a Thanksgiving card in the mail from my cousin Rose. Just a simple thing but it immediately lifted my spirits. And for that I am thankful – thankful to be loved and to be part of a family that remembers to share their love. Thanks Rose, you’ll never know how much I needed your note!

So tomorrow I will remember to give thanks for all my blessings. And I know that it won’t matter if Thanksgiving dinner isn’t perfect in every way (everywhere) because it’s the sharing that matters not the meal that is shared.

Peace,

Denis

Remembering…

This morning I read names at the Mass of Remembrance. Our parish celebrates the lives of those that have died each year on the first Saturday in November. I’ve done this a few times and it’s a beautiful ceremony and I believe it’s especially healing for those that have recently lost loved ones. Of course the physical challenge is pronouncing the names correctly – particularly the Polish, Italian and Chinese names. I always ask the Holy Spirit to help with that and I suppose even if I butcher a name or two it won’t be the first time that these families have had to endure some clod that can’t pronounce ‘Um Sung Huan’ (somehow that makes me feel better – my apologies to the Sung Huan family, oh and to the Szcgielski family, too).

But my ability (or inability) to pronounce names doesn’t diminish the significance of this day. As Catholic Christians we believe in life after death. Further we believe in some type of purgation of our souls. We believe some folks go straight to heaven; others may exist in a state of being somewhere between life on earth and eternal life with Christ. It’s a sticking point with my Protestant friends but it is Scripturally founded.

If he were not expecting the fallen to rise again, it would have been foolish to pray for the dead. But if he did this with a view to the splendid reward that awaits those who had gone to rest in Godliness, it was a holy and pious thought. Thus he made atonement for the dead that they might be absolved from their sin. 2 Maccabees 12:44-46

I’m not trying to convert anyone here; just trying to explain my own faith tradition. But my traditions are beside the point. What I experienced this morning was joy through sorrow. Which is exactly what Jesus offers us each day. And it’s only in our darkness that we can truly find the light. This morning as I read each name I felt honored to speak the name of a loved one; someone who was being lifted up in prayer or more likely being asked to pray for the loved ones remaining here on Earth. Afterall, my personal saints are in all heaven (Aunt Noel, Aunt Minnie, Mimi, Grandpa Tony, Aunt Sha, Uncle Ted, and countless others). Who better to ask prayers of than those who are experiencing the eternal light of God.

Not long ago my granddaughter Charlise told me, “Pawpaw someday you’re going to die.” I have to admit that I wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that truth. I think I told her that I would like to be very old when that happens but I assured her that I would be in heaven ALWAYS smiling down on her.

Today I was reminded (again) that I may need her help getting there.

Peace,

Denis

Change

When you’re an old dog, learning new tricks can be daunting. I like to think of myself as someone who is open-minded, likes a challenge, loves adventure, is willing to try new things and embrace change. But truth be told, I like a little routine now and again. There’s something comforting in those ‘old tricks’ that I have mastered. Still change is inevitable.

So I’m pushing myself out of my comfort zone and I have to say that it’s been fun and invigorating (even if  it’s a bit scary at times – The Autobahn at 120 miles per hour). And it turns out that you’re never really too old to learn something new. My new job responsibilities have brought me to England and I will be working extensively throughout all of Europe. It’s strange being ‘the foreigner’ but I believe this experience will enable me to become more tolerant of others and gain a global perspective of human rights. But before I achieve those lofty goals I will need to learn to drive on the left side of the road in a car with the steering wheel on the right and understand the difference between a lorry and a lift! At times I feel I’m better understood in Germany or Spain than in England. At least in Deutschland or Espana I’m not expected to understand what’s being said to me. Bullocks!

Today I met a with an Indian who lives in Dubai and has businesses in Turkey, India, China, Russia and the United Arab Emirates. We were discussing global partnerships and emerging markets in Uzbekistan and at some point my mind wanders and I begin to think, “I wonder how the St. Louis Cardinals will do tonight?” And I wonder how Anna will do at preschool today, and if is Deb packed yet for her trip over here? So I silently scream at myself, “Focus, Denis!” “Focus.”

But that’s whole point isn’t it? Things change but we remain the same. We might live in new places and learn new things and meet new people but we are who we are. That doesn’t mean that I won’t stretch myself a little and embrace new ideas and new ways of doing things but fundamentally I am who I am. My heart, my soul is grounded in the love of my family and friends. My faith remains in God, my Creator and Redeemer. I am the same husband, father, son, brother and friend today that I was yesterday and will be tomorrow. I may gain some new insights along this journey and meet some new friends but my true self remains unchanged.

And that’s the beauty of change – change of jobs, of scenery, of locales, of time zones. It only makes us truer to ourselves. Even on the days of uncertainty and new discovery I know where I belong – in the hearts of those that love me. And that never changes!

Peace,

Denis

Sleepy in the “City That Never Sleeps”

“New York, New York it’s a wonderful town, The Bronx is up and The Battery down…”

Rockefeller Center

I’ve been in New York since Sunday. Today is Wednesday but it seems like I’ve been here much longer. I like New York. I like the diversity. I like the energy. I like the pace. I like all the sights and sounds. I like the food. I like the architecture. I even sort of like shopping here (don’t tell Deb). But this has been a busy week with meetings and store tours and I’m TIRED. It’s hard to stay upbeat when you feel beat-down.

Today is another day of meetings and then dinner with a client. Which, truth be told, will be a lot of fun. And I’m not really complaining because I love my job and I realize that sitting in some meetings and hailing taxis to get to your next appointment is not REAL WORK, especially compared to someone who is doing an important job like performing brain surgery or delivering hearts for transplant or saving souls. And while I’m well aware of where my job falls on the scale of significance to humanity, I’m still tired. Doesn’t matter if some of what I’m doing at times is trivial, it still takes time, energy and some brain power. You try getting cross-town in Manhattan during rush hour!

I passed by St. Patrick Cathedral earlier today and couldn’t help but stop and think about how it is this bastion of holiness in the midst of the unholy commercial madness on Fifth Avenue. And here I am contributing to the unholiness of it all! But somehow God (and Saint Patrick) reminded to think about the more important things: life, love, laughter. So there I was in front of Saks Fifth Avenue having a “conversion moment” and thanking God for a faith that sustains me even through the madness of my chosen career.

I’m sleepy in the “City That Never Sleeps”. But I’ll just stop at one the gazillion Starbucks® that appear to be on every corner here in Manhattan, fuel up and keep on keepin’ on. I can sleep tomorrow on the flight home.

Peace,

Denis

These Little Lights of Mine…

Since we made the decision to move to England for a year, most days I’m happy, excited and anxious for the adventure of it all. But then there are those days when I feel a little panicked. What if this is a BIG MISTAKE? What if it becomes our YEAR OF REGRET? Of course usually the panic or melancholy has to do with leaving our grandkids behind for a year. I know that we will have Skype and we will visit back and forth. And I also believe that our relationship with our grandchildren is strong enough that one year’s absence won’t turn them into complete strangers. But still there have been some tearful moments…

This past weekend Anna and Noah had a sleep-over. On Saturday morning Anna and I ran some errands. While driving along she began singing, “This light of mine; I’m gonna let shine!” over and over. Sweet little three year-old voice, loud and clear and strong just singing her heart out. Well needless to say the tears began streaming down my face. So much so that I had to pull the car over for fear of not being able to see the road. I know that I’m a sap but this was even a bit much for me. I stopped just short of sobbing. When Anna asked, “Why did we stop here Pawpaw?” I just told her that I needed a minute to think about what I wasn’t going to do next. And I did.

Shine on!

What I did next was join her in song. So we drove along singing at the top our lungs, “This little light of mine…” While we were signing I thought about the folks that have said to me, “Oh, you’re really going to miss your grandchildren” or “I don’t know how you can think about being away for a full year” or “what if Noah doesn’t remember you when you return?”  I wondered, WHY DO PEOPLE SAY THINGS LIKE THAT?

But I sang through the tears and I realized that “these little lights of mine” will keep on shining. Our three grandchildren are little lights that banish the darkness from our hearts and souls. And a simple separation of time or space has no power over the love that we share for one another. And by the time that we got home that morning, Anna and I still singing, I knew that everything would be okay.

Of course I know that there will be more tears. And I’m sure that we will miss one another dreadfully at times but I also know that many families suffer through separations due to work or divorce or even death and somehow survive. Not only do they survive but they thrive!

I’m certain that the light that God has instilled in Charlise and Anna and Noah will shine. And they will continue to brighten even our darkest days.

“Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine!”

Peace,

Denis

One Man’s Trash Is Another Man’s Treasure

The saying goes, “That one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.” So with that in mind (and the need to close up the house here before we leave for England) we decided to have a yard sale. After cleaning out the basement and some of the closets we had a garage full of junk (treasures) to sell. The goal was to get rid of stuff that we didn’t need (or want) anymore. And ultimately what didn’t sell would be donated to St. Vincent de Paul.

But a funny thing happened. Several people who showed up for our sale commented on how nice our stuff was and then proceeded to ask us to take less than the price that was marked. Now I know that with yard sales bartering is part of the ‘game’ and at first I thought it was amusing that someone would ask if I would take less on something that was marked .25 cents. But even though these items were discards I started to feel insulted that some of these bargain hunters would look at the price on something and then roll their eyes or worse – mutter under their breath and laugh. Their taunting laughter seemed to say, “Your trash is not worthy of my precious time or money.” “Wait!” I screamed in my head, “Aren’t you the one that just complimented our lovely array of treasures?”

Suddenly I decided that perhaps some of these folks didn’t deserve our mismatched dishes or outdated wall hangings. Maybe I should just close up shop and save my treasures for someone more appreciative. Why was I sacrificing an (almost) perfectly good crock pot for only $2.00? Why was I willing to let go of a lamp that used to have a prominent place in my home for just a $1.50?

After I regained my composure and made a few bucks and then donated a significant amount of things to charity, I reflected on the entire ordeal. While it’s true that “one man’s trash is another man’s treasure” it’s equally true that “one man’s treasure may be viewed as trash by another.” I wondered how many times that I’ve been guilty of de-valuing someone’s treasure? How often have I not shown proper respect or deference to something highly prized by someone else? And what about the times that I’ve been careless with regards to someone’s feelings? Or downright insulting in my lack of regard? And what kind of pain have I inflicted on others?

Anyone that is prejudged by their appearance or income or the neighborhood that they live in or the car that they drive knows that pain. Any of us that has put part of ourselves into a work of art only to have someone laugh at it or dismiss it knows that pain. Any person that has a child with special needs that has been subjected to unkindness or discrimination knows that pain. Anyone that loves something (their Church, their hometown, their country) only to have it mocked or ridiculed by others knows that pain. 

So today I’m thankful for the lesson of our yard sale. And I’m asking God to help me show more compassion and empathy towards others and to forgive me for those times that I have failed to do so.

Peace,

Denis

Another Day ~ Another Miracle

Miracles. I was reminded yesterday that miracles happen daily. Sometimes we’re blessed to witness them from a front row seat.

My nephew Dave and his wife Laura had their first child yesterday. Logan David Wilhelm was born via emergency C-section at St. John’s Mercy Hospital in St. Louis. He weighs 2 lbs. 7 oz. and is 15-1/2” long. He was born two months early. Laura’s intuition probably saved her baby’s life. She felt that something wasn’t right and saw her doctor yesterday morning. I know that it’s true that Moms can sense their children’s needs. But this is the first time that I have witnessed it in vitro. Apparently the umbilical cord was wrapped around little Logan and was depriving him of nutrition and oxygen.

Even though Logan’s birth weight is extremely low and he was born 9 weeks early we remain very hopeful. He is receiving the best care possible in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit at one of the best hospitals in the country. They have already reduced the amount of oxygen he is receiving and the doctors believe that my nephew and his wife should be able to hold him in a few days. I’m told that his Daddy’s touch already calms him!

My wife was with Laura and Dave until my brother Dave and sister-in-law Pat could arrive from Atlanta late last night. Great Aunt Debbie reports: “Logan is beautiful but very tiny.”

Logan ~ our little miracle

Not all miracles make the news and they may not affect multitudes but they are miracles none the less. Logan is already responsible for an amazing outpouring of love and kindness among our family and friends. His life has changed us all forever. And that change alone is miraculous. We have reaffirmed our love for one another and we are humbled by his birth. And we are reminded (again) that life is precious and it is truly a gift from God – never to be taken for granted.

We have every reason to believe that Logan will thrive but we also know that he has a tough road ahead. So much to ask of such a tiny little boy!

But someday, in 100 years or so, he can tell his story to his grandchildren and great-grandchildren: that with God’s grace and your prayers there once was a miracle named Logan.

Peace,

Denis

Smoke and Mirrors

Recently I was in a meeting with some Sales and Marketing people. I’m the Operations guy so I have the task of actually producing the stuff that the sales people are selling – on time, on budget, etc. During this particular meeting with a potential new customer there was lots jargon and business terminology being thrown about but mostly (it seemed to me) to be a contest of who could come up with the ‘best turn of phrase’. We talked about having “boots on the ground” and “the right DNA” and there was talk of “paradigm shifting” and “proof of concept”. My favorite was when someone stated, “remember, we don’t have to build the church for Easter Sunday”. Wow – I was clearly out of my league! All this became sort of  a game of one-upmanship. For a while all I heard was, “wah, wah, wah, wah, wah, wah”. I had little to add, except for the occasional nod to their collective brilliance.

It occurred to me that for some folks there is a tremendous need to “play the part”. They feel driven to look and sound the way that their audience expects them to behave. This is exactly why I’m not in Sales. I suppose that I’m too transparent. But at least I’m true to myself (I think?).

I thought later about how many of us feel compelled to behave a certain way. We may not even believe what we espouse but we carry on as if we do. Perhaps if you repeat something often enough you will begin to believe it. “I will be kind.” “I will be kind.” “I will be kind.” Or maybe not…

There’s a guy that I know who is very pious. He carries himself with a certain air of holiness that is quite convincing, if not in fact true. He puts on quite a show of prayer and solemnity at Mass. He approaches the altar for Eucharist with great care and much bowing and reverence. He holds himself up as the epitome of righteousness. But at the end of day, he’s still an asshole.

Now I know that God alone knows his heart and soul. And perhaps when he’s approaching the altar he’s asking God to forgive his unkindness. Or maybe not. I for one would be much happier if this guy spent a little more energy on being loving than on being pious.

But now of course it’s my turn: “I will not judge.” “I will not judge.” “I will not judge.” Or maybe I will… Being honest is hard, especially being honest with yourself.  So maybe I’m more of a “Sales Person” than I think – perhaps I’m trying to convince myself that I’m ALWAYS the good guy.

I’ll bet God is laughing at that. Thankfully, I know that God is forgiving me as well.

If I speak in human and angelic tongues but do not have love, I am a resounding gong or a clashing cymbal. And if I have the gift of prophecy and comprehend all mysteries and all knowledge; if I have all faith so as to move mountains but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give away everything I own, and if I hand my body over so that I may boast but do not have love, I gain nothing. (1 Corinthians 13:1-4)

Peace,

Denis