Jesus

Cautionary Tale

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

We have toured a lot of churches in Europe. A whole lot. And I love each and every one of them. Most of these churches, abbeys and cathedrals are old. Some are ancient. All are magnificent. But sadly many seem to be more like museums than active places of worship. Some don’t even have regular services – maybe two or three Sundays per month. And some of the congregations seem as old as some of the buildings.

These churches, abbeys and cathedrals represent centuries of Christian worship that time has seemed to have forgotten. Why? How can so many of these grand structures be empty, hollow remnants of their former glory? Where are the faithful?

My workmates marvel at my Catholicism. And further, they have the notion that most folks in the United States are very religious and avid church-goers. Not quite sure where they got that impression. They are more curious than disrespectful of my beliefs; however the comments by some veer toward contempt. “No Church would tell me how to live!”

All Saints Church in Oaksey, Wiltshire                     Ancient and mostly empty

So when touring these beautiful sanctuaries and contemplating the lack of public displays of faith I am conflicted. Did people grow tired of a Church that was more interested in control than service? Did the Church focus their attention more on the ‘haves’ than the ‘have-nots’? Did common folk grow weary of trying to walk in lock-step with a hierarchy that was increasingly out of touch with their lives and needs?

I believe that in our American Catholic Church today we risk alienation of millions of faithful by increasingly focusing on our “worthiness” and forgetting the real message of Jesus. After all the Church is us – the faithful; not just the priests, bishops and cardinals. The Church should embrace all of us; not exclude us because we may have listened to our consciences and made informed decisions that might not be in keeping with strict church teaching. Let us not forget that God has gifted us with intellect. Sometimes discernment means more than just following the rules.

And finally, never forget the power of love. Love unites us, heals our wounds, and binds our hearts. And love should influence all of the decisions in our lives. Let’s fill our churches, abbeys, and cathedrals with love. Then perhaps they won’t someday become little more than curiosities.

To say that I am made in the image of God is to say that love is the reason for my existence, for God is love. Love is my true identity. Selflessness is my true self. Love is my true character. Love is my name. ~Thomas Merton

Peace,

Denis

Contemplating Stonehenge

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peace,

Denis

The More Things Change – The More They Stay The Same

/ Denis Wilhelm / 3 Comments

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

Saint Peter Roman Catholic Church - Cirencester

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

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

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

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

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

Peace,

Denis

In Her Heart

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

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

Anna

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

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

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

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

Peace,

Denis

Letting Go of Christmas Past…

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

For many of us Christmas carries a lot of baggage. Memories of Christmas, both good and bad, fill our hearts and influence how we celebrate today. Regardless of our beliefs, no other day of the year has the same amount of emotional punch as Christmas. We either find ourselves desperately and maniacally trying to live up to some ideal picture perfect Christmas – think Norman Rockwell, The Waltons (not the Wal-Mart ones), or “It’s A Wonderful Life” or we plunge into depression because we know that our ideal Christmas can never really happen.

Early Christmas disenchantment - circa 1956

Whether Jesus is your Savior or Christmas is just time of goodwill for you, it likely doesn’t diminish the significance of your memories of Christmases past. And the struggle to get past our bad ones or relive our good ones seems to be endless. There’s no shortage of disillusionment, heartache, and sadness in this world; so why not wrap some up for Christmas? My bitterness about a Christmas (long ago) that I didn’t get the gift that I really wanted or the year that someone was unkind to me or the time that I wasn’t invited to a party (or was forced to sit on Santa’s lap) can jusifiy my indignagtion. But holding on to anger, resentment and sorrow from years gone-by just poisons my ability to live joyfully now.

Perhaps this year is the year to let go of grudges or hurt feelings or regrets that overshadow my enjoyment of the holidays. Are my bad Christmas memories really worth all the hard feelings and self-pity? We say “peace on earth and goodwill to all” but often I only want peace and goodwill to me – I think it’s about time that I let go of my selfishness.

Last night my seven year-old granddaughter helped put it all in perspective for me. We attended an Advent Novena at a nearby convent. Standing there in the candle-lit chapel, hearing the sisters begin to sing, Charlise leaned over to me and said, “Pawpaw, I think I’m going to cry.” When I asked why, she said, “Because it’s so beautiful!” And we were wrapped up in that moment – a moment so beautiful it brought us both to tears.

This year the house may not be clean enough and the children may not be well-behaved and the food may not be perfect and the gifts may not delight but Christmas will come anyway. So I’ve decided to sing “Let It Go, Let It Go, Let It Go!” and get over any disappointments along the way. And I will be merry this Christmas because I have so many blessings for which to be thankful.

This year I already have a happy Christmas memory. An angel named Charlise brought it to me last night!

Peace,

Denis

Be Prepared!

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Be Prepared! That’s the Boy Scout motto. It’s also good advice for most situations in life. We all know how to be prepared: put on clean underwear, check your oil, look both ways before you cross, replenish your First Aid Kit, take cover, get insurance, wear protection, know your escape route, fuel up, put your head between your legs, etc., etc., etc.

But sometimes even the best laid plans fail. And we have to “pick up the pieces” and move on. Or we can just sit and cry. I usually prefer to cry while I’m “picking up the pieces” but that’s just me.

Our son Tyson, who is in the Air Force, was due home from his tour in Korea on Thursday but his flight was cancelled due to equipment failure. So what was supposed to be travel on Wednesday/Thursday became travel on Thursday/Friday. Of course we were all disappointed and some plans needed to be scrapped and others amended. But Ty’s home now and that’s the important thing. Still none of us was prepared for the travel interruptions – ugh!

Last weekend I really needed to get some things done on Sunday afternoon but my grandson woke up from his nap with a loud cry. I rescued him from his terror and held him close. Soon he was back asleep in my arms. Listening to Noah’s sweet breath sounds and feeling his tiny heart beating in rhythm with my own, suddenly all the important things that needed to be done weren’t so important or necessary. Holding him was all that mattered.

During Advent we’re reminded to “Prepare the Way of the Lord”. I’ve decided that preparing for God is exactly opposite of preparing for an earthquake or tornado or any other calamity. There’s no ‘stocking up’ or ‘hunkering down’ required. Preparing to receive God in my life requires that I just be. That I find the peacefulness in my soul. That I stop doing. And that I just let it happen. It’s in the darkness that I see the light. It’s in the quiet that I hear the song. And it’s in the stillness that I am moved.

Oh, I know that I need to be more prayerful, more loving, more giving and more tolerant but that will only happen when I allow Jesus to takeover and I stop planning my next move. So right now I’d just like to hold Noah again and let it be.

Mary said, Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word. Luke 1:38

Peace,

Denis

P.S. I suspect that Mary was no more prepared when Jesus was born than I am today and still He comes…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kPbV_HTpyx0

Repeat The Sounding Joy

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Today our Church celebrates the third Sunday of Advent also known as “Gaudete Sunday.” Gaudete means “rejoice” in Latin. This joyful spirit is marked by the third candle of our Advent wreath, which is rose (or pink) colored.

Growing up I was always excited to see the pink candle lit – it meant just two weeks until Christmas.  And my excitement and anticipation would intensify tenfold. I knew that Christmas was still two full weeks away but we were already halfway through Advent. Halfway through our time of waiting!

So lighting that pink candle was a time for rejoicing. And it still is.

Today of course I am less excited about what gifts will be exchanged (although gift-giving is still a joyful experience) and more focused on Christ’s coming. As Catholic Christians we celebrate Christ’s coming at Christmas in three ways:

His coming as an infant over 2,000 years ago in Bethlehem.

His coming at the end of time.

His coming in our lives today.

While images of tiny baby Jesus are sweetly sentimental (and for those of us that have been parents or babies perhaps easy to relate to) and imagining the majesty of end times can be quite awe inspiring, for me receiving Jesus in my heart and home at Advent and Christmas is most significant.

Third Week of Advent - light your pink candle!

I need Jesus here and now to help me put my life into perspective. I need His loving example to help me deal with relatives that always seem to be the least lovable at Christmastime. I need Jesus’ wisdom to decide how to give gifts that honor His birth while still meeting the needs of those that I have gifted. I need His patience to allow the holidays to “unfold” and not become a raving madman because something doesn’t go as I planned. I need Jesus’ forgiveness for all of the times that I will fail to be loving, giving, and patient.

Today I’m filled with joyful anticipation. Because very soon He will come. He comes with love. He comes with wisdom. He comes with patience. And He offers me forgiveness.

Peace,

Denis

I rejoice heartily in the LORD, in my God is the joy of my soul. Isaiah 61:10

 

Patience (or lack thereof)

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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

Praying With Anna

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My granddaughter Anna prays. And she prays like I wish we could all pray – unabashedly, joyfully and out loud! Of course most 3-1/2 year olds don’t have much inhibition. They’re still too young to be controlled by peer pressure. So I suppose that announcing loudly that she “needs to go potty” or pointing out someone’s obvious physical flaw falls into the same category as public prayer – there’s nothing wrong with it. Time will tell. Hopefully she will learn that some public comment should remain private but I hope that she never loses her zeal for prayer.

Holy Anna

Last week we had lunch at one of her favorite places, Chik-fil-A® and before eating she began singing loudly: 

“Thank you Jesus, thank you Jesus; For our food, for our food; And our many blessings, and our many blessings; We love You, we love You!” to the tune of ‘Frere Jacque’, complete with hand gestures. Amen!

Some passersby smiled. Some seemed puzzled. Some seemed genuinely touched by her prayer. Of course I had previously witnessed her new meal prayer ritual and was thrilled that she would sing out in public. God bless her parents and her preschool teacher for teaching her to love Jesus.

One evening last month I was asked to lead the Rosary at our parish. For those of you that don’t know, the Rosary is an ancient prayer of our church that dates back over a thousand years. The Rosary beads are used to mark prayers said in repetition while meditating on the mysteries of Jesus’ life on earth. I used to think that the Rosary was just for the blue-haired old ladies of our parish but I’ve come to honor the tradition that it represents and respect those that have gone before me in their devotion to Mary and the Saints. My Aunt Minnie must be smiling down from heaven.

Anna’s parents, Bess and Travis, had gone out to celebrate their anniversary the evening that I was to lead Rosary and Deb and I had Anna and baby brother Noah for the evening. I decided to take Anna with me. Not certain if she could stand still for the 20 minutes or so that it would take to pray at the grotto, I asked the Holy Spirit to look down on her and be with her. I needn’t bother – Jesus held her up for all of us there to witness.

Although she got a little wiggly at times, she stood beside me with her own little rosary and prayed along. At times I lost my place because I could hear Anna’s tiny voice praying, “Hail Mary, full of grace…” But somehow it only made our prayer gathering that much more meaningful for me. This wasn’t something rehearsed or practiced – this was just pure joy.

At the conclusion of prayer I thanked the small gathering for their patience with us and apologized for whatever distraction Anna might have caused. I was assured by everyone that Anna had made the prayer especially beautiful. I was told by one person that he was quite certain that Mary’s statue could be seen smiling. I don’t think that plaster can smile but I know that I was beaming!

Pray on, Anna, pray on! Pawpaw’s learning to do the same.

Peace,

Denis

Remembering…

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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