peace

Color Blindness

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

Red-green color blindness, also known as deuteranopia, is the most common type of color vision deficiency. It affects roughly 8 percent of the world’s population. It occurs when a person has an impairment in red cone or green cone pigment perception. People with this condition tend to confuse purple, blue, green, orange, and red.

Color blindness is hereditary. It is passed from a color-blind father to his daughter who becomes a carrier of the genetic material but not color blind herself. She then has a 50 percent chance of passing the genes to her son. Females can be born color blind as well, but it requires a color-blind father and mother who is a carrier and the percentages of carrying to the child are greatly reduced. Therefore, deuteranopia predominately affects males.

I am color blind. And so is my grandson.

Most of my life, especially in my career, I have kept my color blindness a secret. In architectural millwork it’s not helpful for your client to realize that you have no idea what color the finishes are that you are presenting to them for approval. When asked my personal opinion, I would usually say something like, “I agree with you, it does look a little too mauve” then make copious notes to share with my staff who could interpret what the hell mauve might be. All the while my heart would be racing knowing that I couldn’t actually pick up a red ball in a green lawn to save my soul. Did my fraudulent confidence conceal my deceit? Seems to have worked.

My color blindness is more of an inconvenience than a disability. I have a loving wife who helps dress me and decorates our home. I have developed coping skills (red is always at the top of traffic lights). Blue is my favorite color because it is one that I see well. Not so sure about aqua, turquoise, periwinkle or lavender. Turns out those aren’t really blue. A fun game is when someone asks, “What does green look like to you?” My response: “I only see what I see.”

Lately I have been wondering if I am blind about things that have nothing to do with color. Do I “only see what I see”? Do I turn a blind eye to the suffering of others? Do I ignore those who are discriminated and disenfranchised? Have I developed coping skills that allow me to ignore the evil and chaos in my own community? Do I allow my fraudulent confidence to conceal my deceit?

I am an associate member of a lay community of religious Sisters. We are Partners in Mission. We proclaim to be working for peace and reconciliation in our families, communities, country and world. Often, I fall short of that goal. I judge without knowing the circumstance of others. I condemn without understanding the hardships they might be suffering.

Recently, I have been blessed with some opportunities to ‘see true colors more clearly’. My granddaughter is volunteering at a food pantry. I have had the joy of joining her on a few occasions. Watching her loving devotion to the clients she serves has humbled me and reminded me that God works through all of us. God can even use me, if I open my eyes and my heart.

I attended a peaceful “Hands-off” rally where concerned citizens joined together to voice our protest against current administration policies. Most of the passersby were supportive but some, who could have easily ignored us, decided to offer hand gestures and obscenities. I was encouraged to see that democracy is still alive. And I realize that those individuals are entitled to express their opinions as well.

My grandson was awarded a scholarship to the high school he will be attending this fall. He was awarded the Outstanding Service Scholarship for his volunteerism to his community. I suppose he is ‘seeing true colors more clearly’ too.

When Cardinal Robert Francis Prevost stepped onto the balcony of St. Peter’s Basilica as the new Pope Leo XIV, he said “Peace be with you all! Dear brothers and sisters, these are the first words spoken by the risen Christ, the Good Shepherd who laid down His life for God’s flock. I would like this greeting of peace to resound in your hearts, in your families, among all people, wherever they may be, in every nation and throughout the world. Peace be with you!“

I am living with my color blindness and praying to see the true colors in others more clearly.

Peace,

Denis

OG, Oh My!

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

Not long ago, someone much younger said I was OG. Not sure what it meant, I thought initially that they were calling me an ‘old grandpa’. Turns out that OG, is short for “original gangster” and is a slang term for someone who is incredibly exceptional, authentic, or old-school. I suppose I was being complimented. At least that’s what I chose to believe.

Getting older is not for the faint of heart. But here’s the good news: Older can be better. We have wisdom born of experience. We have memories that fill our hearts with joy. We have stories to tell. We can teach. We can pray. We can love.

We have time to cherish life’s simple pleasures. We have the fortitude earned by previous hardships to face the ugliness in today’s world. And we have the courage because of our lived experiences to embrace change and work for justice.

It’s easy to fall into despair at times. My back aches and my joints are inflamed, arthritis and cable news are keeping me awake at night. I worry. A lot. And I worry that some people don’t worry enough.

But then I remember that I’m OG. I am exceptional, authentic, and old-school. I must use my powers for good. I’ve been around. I remember Kennedy’s assassination, the moon landing, and Watergate. I know the words to a lot of great old songs. I can also read and write cursive!

So, I will volunteer at charities that accept gray-haired helpers. I can tutor kids who need a little extra help and an occasional story or two. I can welcome someone in need at a food pantry. I can visit folks in assisted living facilities who are really OG. I can write letters to my congressman and senators.

Being older can be a blessing. I just need to get out of that recliner. I need to stand up, speak up, and act up! I need to be the “original gangster” that someone expects me to be. When I look past the wrinkles and white hair, I still see the same blue eyes in the mirror that once longed for peace and justice. I still feel purposeful, and I am called to help make a positive change in my heart, my family, my community. I want to bring reconciliation into our troubled world.

I need to get busy. Time is fleeting! When I can longer help out, hand out, or shout out, I can still pray. I’m pretty certain that God hears the prayers of the OG’s.

Peace,

Denis

P.S. Deb, you’re my OG

Peace Be With You (and also with me?)

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

In a Catholic mass we offer the “Sign of Peace” to one another. It’s typically a polite and friendly gesture of greeting which often includes shaking hands. The celebrant says to the congregation “Peace be with you” and then everyone responds, “and also with you.” We are then invited to offer peace to one another. Then we turn to our fellow congregants and say, “Peace” or “Peace be with you”. Not an insignificant gesture but it sometimes feels rote or worse, awkward if the person next to appears to be nonreceptive.

Often, I feel conflicted when offering peace. There is currently so much angst in my heart and head that peacefulness seems unattainable and offering it to others seems insincere. The moral, economic and political divisions in our country today are greater than any other time in my adult life. So many in our nation are victims of xenophobia, racism, sexism, antisemitism, and homophobia. The recent hurricanes and natural disasters only add to the suffering of millions. It’s hard to not fall into despair. Why is there so much that is so wrong? Why are so many people embracing hatred and vitriol? And why are some politicians ratchetting up the hate and fear? Where are the better angels of our nature that Abraham Lincoln spoke of so eloquently?

How can I, a flawed, sinful and desperate man, offer peace? This isn’t easy, but I believe that I must begin with me. To “reconcile” means to rebuild; reconnect; to be at peace. To embrace my suffering and try to understand the suffering of others, I’ll have to try to be more loving; more caring; more respectful; and less judgmental. I’ll have to shut my mouth and open my ears and more importantly my heart. And offer myself some peace before I can extend it to others.

In her book, “Stitches: A Handbook on Meaning, Hope, and Repair”, Anne Lamott writes: “My understanding of Incarnation is that we are not served by getting away from the grubbiness of suffering. Sometimes we feel that we are barely pulling ourselves forward through a tight tunnel on badly scraped-up elbows. But we do come out the other side, exhausted and changed. To heal, it seems we have to stand in the middle of the horror, at the foot of the cross, and wait out another’s suffering where that person can see us.“

This is my challenge: To make the “The Sign of Peace” more than just some friendly, smiling, handshaking, muttering of peace-be-with-you. I will ask God with each encounter to lift me out of my despair; to embrace me with love and kindness toward others. And to bring peace, if only briefly, to each soul that I encounter.

Peace,

Denis

Peace

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

Peace. Such a simple word with so many definitions: a state without war; freedom from disquieting or oppressive thoughts or emotions; a state of freedom from storm or disturbance; peaceful coexistence. But what does peace mean to me? As I often do, I look to others for wisdom beyond my ken.

Mahatma Gandhi said, “The day the power of love overrules the love of power, the world will know peace.” Elie Wiesel wrote, “Mankind must remember that peace is not God’s gift to his creatures; peace is our gift to each other.” In the words of Saint Teresa of Calcutta, “Peace begins with a smile.”

Albert Einstein is quoted as saying “There are only two ways to live your life. One is as if nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”

Peace is my miracle. I see peace when I watch the birds and squirrels in my backyard scurrying for seeds and nuts to keep warm in this bitter cold. I feel peace when I hold my grandchildren in my arms knowing that they are God’s promise to make this world a better place. I know peace when the love of others lifts me out of the darkness of despair.

The challenge for me is to be a peace-giver. Each week when I attend mass, we share a ‘sign of peace’. Simply stated: we shake hands or hug those around us and say, “peace be with you”. Sometimes I do it rather mechanically. Sometimes I fail to even look the recipient of my ‘peace’ in the eyes. And seldom do I take the time to really think about the peace I am offering.

Again, seeking wisdom, I turn to my spouse. She often reminds me that we have no idea what pain others are carrying in their hearts. What peace do you need, my friend? What freedom are you seeking? What are your fears? What emotions or thoughts are troubling you? I can offer this small gift. I can give peace, my peace. I can begin with a smile. I can hug a little tighter and hold a hand just a moment longer and let someone know that I truly care.

Here’s the other part: accepting peace. Am I changed when others offer their peace to me? Do I accept their peace generously and without question? Once again: I can begin with a smile. I can hug a little tighter and hold a hand just a moment longer and let someone know that I am truly blessed by their love.

My peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give it to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid. John 14:27

Peace,

Denis

P.S. My friend Joyce shared this beautiful song with me, offering me her peace.

Holding On and Letting Go

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

My daughter shared that on her family’s recent trip to the Grand Canyon her 11-year-old son became concerned with her welfare on one of the trail hikes and took her hand. She’s not sure if he thought that the steep incline might be too challenging for her or if he was worried because she was battling allergies or perhaps, he thought she might be frightened of the heights. Regardless, he held her hand. This is something that this 11-year-old boy doesn’t normally do in public anymore. He’s too big now and too vulnerable to 5th grade peer pressure to be seen holding hands with Mom.

A few weeks ago at church a woman who I know needed some assistance. I know her in the “from church” sense of the word. I know her name and that she was recently widowed and that she had been a teacher years ago, but I don’t really know her well. Still, we’ve always spoken to one another in the polite ‘have a nice day’ kind of way that casual acquaintances do. Lately she has acquired a walker and on this particular Sunday, I helped her retrieve it after Mass. That simple gesture was repaid by a smile and a grasp of my hand and squeeze from her old bony hand. It was a sweet, warm encounter. I wondered as she scooted off how much she must miss the touch of her beloved late husband’s hand.

I lost my Mom nearly three years ago and there is not a single day that goes by that I don’t think of her. Usually, they are happy thoughts and fond memories of the times we shared. Sometimes, I feel the ache of her absence profoundly; I feel her loss in my heart; in my soul; and in my physical being. On those days I am comforted by the memory of one of our last times together. A week before she died, I stopped by to visit, and Mom was on the sofa in the family room. Her pulmonary fibrosis had gotten the best of her that day and she was listless and breathless. We sat side by side on that sofa and she put her hand in mine and we sat there in silence. No words were needed. I remember feeling like a young boy once again being comforted and reassured that Mom was going to be okay. There I was trying to take of her and instead she was taking care of me.

Holding on and letting go.

My grandson held on to my daughter on that canyon hike as she was struggling to let go of the baby boy who is no longer there. He let go of his fear of being seen holding hands with Mom. She is comforted in knowing now he will always take care of her while is she busy also taking care of him.

My friend from church is holding on to her walker and letting go of some of her independence. She is forging ahead in a life without her spouse. And she is blessing those around her who offer her small kindnesses.

My Mom gave me a such a beautiful gift on that day on the sofa together. She gave me hope and peace. As we were holding on to one another she let me know without words that it was time to let go.

And here she, is still taking care of me…

Peace,

Denis

Be Watchful; Be Ready

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

During the four weeks of Advent we are supposed to be waiting for Jesus. And most years I am too busy to settle myself into contemplation of Christ’s coming. But this year is different. We are shopping on line. All the Christmas baking is done. The house is already decorated. We are not traveling. We are not entertaining.  There are few gifts to wrap because everything is being delivered by Amazon. And still I find little time for Jesus. So it seems all my “too busy” excuses of Christmases past were just rubbish.

This year I have plenty of time to quiet myself and listen for His voice. Instead I grumble about not having MY CHRISTMAS. The Christmas that I WANT with all our extended family; with Christmas cocktail parties; with Christmas concerts; with Christmas pageants; with Christmas shopping. After all isn’t that what Jesus wants, too? You know, normal Christmas with all the pomp and circumstance and just enough time to squeeze in a little “holiness” like Midnight Mass or a Novena to make it all seem sanctified.

But here I am in 2020, with plenty of time to pray and reflect on Christ’s coming: Christ coming into our world as a helpless infant; Christ coming into our world today as the love that surrounds us and sustains us; Christ coming at the end of time to save us and bring us home. I’ve complained about all the disruptions, pain and loss that Covid-19 has brought to our world. And I’ve readily used it as an excuse to not do some things I might have otherwise done. But I cannot use it as an excuse for not celebrating Advent and Christmas this year. I have the time!

I’m certain that the first Christmas wasn’t exactly what Mary and Joseph had planned but events beyond their control forced them to travel to Bethlehem. Mary’s joy was not diminished because she gave birth to Jesus amidst the most humble of circumstances. Neither should our joy be diminished by circumstances beyond our control. The corona virus and all it’s related heartache has had a profound effect on all of us this year but still our Savior comes. Perhaps I can use this time of uncertainty to remain watchful and ready.

Aristotle is credited with saying, “To appreciate the beauty of a snowflake it is necessary to stand out in the cold.” Maybe a cold, harsh winter is what I need. Maybe freezing my backside off will make me appreciate the warmth and beauty of my home and stop my complaining about what I have missed this year.

Mostly I pray that a long cold winter will help me embrace the coming spring and create room in my heart for His love.

Peace,

Denis

Be patient, brothers and sisters,
until the coming of the Lord.
See how the farmer waits for the precious fruit of the earth,
being patient with it
until it receives the early and the late rains.
You too must be patient.
Make your hearts firm,
because the coming of the Lord is at hand.

James 5:7-8

Wait! What??!!

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

My grandson is a nine year-old who is often too busy to listen to what is going on around him. Still, he is keenly interested in EVERYTHING. So when conversations or events are happening and he is preoccupied, but hears something that intrigues him, he will stop in his tracks and ask, “Wait, what??!!” My dad, his great-grandfather, does exactly the same thing. It’s funny how a nine year-old and a ninety-four year-old react the same way, with the same expression, when something piques their curiosity.

“Wait! What??!!” has become a little joke in our family. It’s one of those expressions that can almost always be anticipated. Perhaps if the “wait!-what?-ers” could pay attention they might not need to interrupt the conversations or events as they unfold. When you’re nine or ninety-four I suppose many things are competing for your time and your interest. Those two and their “wait! what?” almost always bring a smile or a laugh. And I suppose it’s okay to be preoccupied or disinterested or disengaged at times. It’s humorous that these two react so predictably. This shared trait in great-grandson and great-grandfather is truly funny and even charming.

Unfortunately lately I have found myself exclaiming “Wait! What??!!”, too. But my “wait! what?” reaction is to what is happening in our country and it is not amusing; it’s frightening. It’s not that I’m disinterested or disengaged but it seems that no sooner than I wrap my head around one tragedy or disaster, another even more horrific event presents itself. As corona virus deaths surpass 108,000 in the U.S., many people have become cavalier in their disregard for social distancing and safety. To ‘mask or not to mask’ seems to sadly have become a political issue rather than a valid health decision. Gatherings at beaches and resorts have sent the message that all is well while healthcare professionals say otherwise. The senseless killings of Ahmaud Arbery and George Floyd remind us (again) how racist, hateful and divided we remain as a nation. The threat of military action against our own citizens who choose to protest these killings from some unknown, unidentified troops looks as though we are living in an authoritarian dictatorship. As a nation we are restless, anxious and fearful. Information from television, radio and social media outlets abound but how much is trustworthy? And rather than providing leadership and comfort to our nation our president seems complicit in exploiting all this heartache for some twisted political advantage.

I am trying to stay hopeful and I do see positive signs: The economy is taking “baby steps” toward recovery; There are fewer recorded cases of Covid-19 in some of our local hospitals; Peaceful, respectful protest marches are taking place all over our country, including in my own hometown; Military leaders, religious leaders and some politicians are showing the courage to speak truth to power.

Most days when I turn on the news or look at social media, I still find myself saying, “Wait! What??!!” and yet I believe that life will be better. I pray for peace and justice. I pray for health and safety for all. I pray for understanding in this whirlwind of chaos and confusion. I believe that love will lead us to a better place. I believe that God will not abandon us.

I believe…

Peace,

Denis

O Come O Come Emmanuel

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Tomorrow is the first Sunday of Advent; the beginning of our preparation for the Christ-Child. Last night, my wife was playing ‘O Come, O Come Emmanuel’ on the piano. That beautiful, haunting and hopeful hymn that has always been part of my life touched my heart again this year.

O come, O come Emmanuel and ransom captive Israel; that mourns in lonely exile here until the Son of God appear

Lonely exile. These two words keep playing in head. I can’t help but think of the immigrants and asylum seekers that Deb served at our southern border earlier this year. I’m sure many of them felt lonely during their exile. The stories that she has shared of her experience are heart breaking and yet somehow still hopeful. Our hymn, though mournful, reminds us that God is coming to set us free. In our longing and waiting we have hope. These desperate souls, that were welcomed in McAllen, Texas had hope: Hope of a better life; hope of safety; home of a new home. What my wife and the other volunteers offered was kindness and dignity.

Make safe the way that leads on high; And close the path to misery.

I pray that these less fortunate souls have found their respite. I pray that they have continued to be welcomed by strangers and have found HOME. The people that my wife served didn’t want to leave their homelands but had no choice. The violence and persecution they endured was unimaginable. And still they endured. They needed an end to their misery. Hope was all many of them had left.

To us the path of knowledge show; And teach us in her ways to go

It’s easy for me to turn a blind eye to the suffering in our world. I cozy up to my comforts and toss a few coins in the Salvation Army can at my local grocery store. I pray for those less fortunate because I know that there is immense suffering in our world, our nation, our state, our community but I fail to take the time learn the systemic causes of this injustice. I make a few donations and I shed a tear for the atrocities I see on the television or read about in the news but that isn’t enough. During Advent I will recommit myself to knowledge. As someone living with privilege because of my race and gender I must recommit myself to social justice for all.

O come, Desire of nations, bind in one the hearts of all humankind; Bid thou our sad divisions cease, And be thyself our Prince of Peace.

The problems in our world can feel overwhelming at times, but the words of this hymn give me hope. During this busy holiday season, when I feel overwrought, I can slow down and listen and re-listen to ‘O Come, O Come Emmanuel’. Our salvation is at hand. Rejoice! Rejoice! All humankind can be changed. All humankind can find peace. I’m going to begin with me. It may not be easy but most things worth having are not easily obtained. I must fight for justice, pray for wisdom, work for peace, and love beyond measure.

And cheer us by your drawing nigh; disperse the gloomy clouds of night; And death’s dark shadows put to flight.

May you find love, joy, comfort, but mostly peace in this Advent season.

Peace,

Denis

Finding Peace in a Frenzied World

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In these weeks of Advent we are encouraged to “prepare the way of the Lord”.

However, like most of us, I am in a fevered frenzy to ‘prepare the way of Christmas’. The gifts, the decorating, the planning, the gatherings, the family, etc., etc, etc. Oh, and just in case I wasn’t feeling pressured enough, let’s add the additional (burden/guilt?) of countless charities asking for some of my already-stretched-too-thin budget!

I’m sure somewhere in this mountain of shopping lists, Christmas cocktail recipes, gift wrap, garland, Christmas cards, tangled lights, cookie ingredients, and other ABSOLUTE CHRISTMAS NECESSITIES, Baby Jesus is buried under there somewhere. Surely that old Nativity Set is in one of these boxes. Maybe I’ll find Him tomorrow. But first I’ve got to get that tree decorated and put those lights up. Then I’ll clean the house, wrap some gifts, plan some meals and have one of those much-deserved Christmas cocktails. I’ll definitely look for Baby Jesus tomorrow. Surely He didn’t get tossed out with the trash last year. I’ll make a new list and add ‘look for Baby Jesus’.

On-The-Second-Sunday-In-Advent-The-Peace-Candles-Is-LitEach year my Advent is about the same. Frenzy followed by peace. Blissful peace. Some years it sneaks up on me (like when a grandchild crawls up on my lap and gives me an undeserved hug or when my cousin’s Christmas card arrives in the mail and I can relive all those joyful memories of Christmases long ago). Most years it kind of hits me right between the eyes (like reuniting with a friend with whom too much time has passed and realizing immediately that time hasn’t diminished the love we share). The thing is, I never find peace on my own. Someone always brings it to me.

So I needn’t spend anymore time searching for Baby Jesus in that box somewhere in the basement. Real Christmas is here in my soul. It’s in the hearts of those that I love. It’s in the laughter of children. It’s in the kindness of strangers. Without fail, it comes to me by way of a messenger each year.

I hope that you will open your door and your heart when your messenger arrives this Advent season.

Peace,

Denis

“Behold, I am sending my messenger ahead of you; he will prepare your way.” Mark 1:2

 

 

Let It Be

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

The angel said to her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. Therefore, the child to be born will be called holy, the Son of God.” Mary said, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. Let it be done to me according to your word.”

Often this passage from Luke’s Gospel conjures images of a submissive Mary. A young woman who is overwhelmed and helpless to understand what is being asked of her. Certainly, Mary would have not expected a visit from an angel, and she probably was startled by the announcement. But to me, her response is not that of a weak or frightened child but instead that of a strong woman who appears steadfast in her convictions. Mary believed in God. Mary allowed God to work through her without hesitation. Perhaps she understood more than the Gospel tells us.

mary_baby_jesus2_342184954

Any mother will tell you that the love of her child is primal and inexplicable. Mary’s love would have been no less than that of any mother. She would likely have been concerned about bringing a child into the politically turbulent world in which she lived, not to mention the very unconventional way that she found herself with child. And yet her love overshadowed any insecurities she may have had. Mary is a model for all of us. Mary took an active role in God’s plan. She wasn’t just a vessel. She didn’t just submit. She stood tall at His cradle and at His cross. And proved that love conquers all!

Christmas comes with hope of renewal. Christmas raises our expectations of peace and goodwill. Friends and families unite. Celebrations take place. Joy is proclaimed throughout the world.

But Christmas itself doesn’t end hunger, or war, or poverty, or terrorism, or racism, or homophobia or violence, or human trafficking, or all other injustices. Still, Christ comes at Christmas and we are reminded by Mary that if we believe in God and take an active role in His plan, we can bring peace to our world. Let it be me who takes a stand; performs a small act of kindness; who makes a small sacrifice for another. Let it be me who shares a smile; who speaks a kind word; gives a gentle touch. These things multiplied by the millions as we proclaim our Christmas joy will transform our world.

And so, I ask God, “Let it be” me who helps make a difference this year. Will you join me?

Peace,

Denis