"Summer Freedom"

“Summer Freedom”





Dear Friends,



It’s a perfect summer day in New England, and yet looking at the calendar, one knows that there won’t be many more to come. I chose the reading below this week because it has always captured for me the feeling of summer freedom, and the feeling of spiritual freedom as well. Why not take a look at the sharing below, and enjoy with me one last nostalgic experience of the summer freedom so soon to end for all Northerners like me?!





"For Freedom Christ Has Set Us Free"

- St. Paul, Gal. 5:1





Many, many years ago I went with friends to spend an incredible weekend at the summer home of my best friend's family. The home was gorgeous - right at the water's edge on Lake Winnepesaukee in New Hampshire. It was June of the summer before my senior year in high school, and vacation had just begun. I remember that weekend like it was yesterday. I remember how the feeling of freedom filled the air that weekend. The whole of that weekend all the youth present were on a "natural high". It was a feeling of freedom to the point of intense and intoxicating.



Freedom was with us every time we dove from the boat dock into the cool, clear water of the mountain lake. Freedom energized us too every time we raced each other out to the raft off shore. In the 60's rafts were everywhere at lakes and beaches, and this one was about fifty yards out at the beginning of a beautiful, broad area of open water. Just on its own out there, not connected or tied to the land, the raft itself was like a symbol of freedom. Once out there we had amazing views all around us - clear views into far off hills on every side of the vast expanse of the wide-open lake. We spent so many carefree hours out on that raft that weekend - hours that seemed to fly by like minutes. Perhaps it was because all of us were so ecstatic that exams were now done and all worries about grades were now past. A carefree spirit of freedom had indeed seized all of us. It had reached deep into each of us as we dove, swam, talked, and laughed. It was even with us as we just laid out on the raft deck, and silently soaked in the rays of the early June sun. All sense of time and pressure was a distant memory as we lay there without a worry in the world, all the while fanned by gentle lake breezes that "glided" over our bodies in a steady, cool, continual flow.



For myself though, even from the outset of this awesome weekend, I knew there was a deeper reason for the freedom I felt, and even upon arriving at the lake, I could think of little else. Even from my earliest years there was always a feeling of freedom when I headed north into New Hampshire. Even from early childhood New Hampshire always meant "vacation", and the feeling of being free of all burdens and cares. Ever since my early youth too, the most memorable vacation each year was always in New Hampshire. Then too, it was always the same one that my family repeated each summer. This was my family's annual summer climb into the White Mountains. As long as I can remember, some of my most exalted moments of freedom always happened on these hiking excursions in the mountains to the north.



So it was that even from the very moment of my arrival at the home on the lake, I was already reliving cherished moments of climbing each summer. I was reliving too the experience of freedom I always felt heading ever farther north into New Hampshire. Even now in the quiet by the lakeside that Friday, long before classmates arrived, I stood alone out on the boat dock and gazed off beyond the lake into the hills and peaks of the north country. With refreshing lake breezes blowing in my face and through my hair, I savored those treasured memories and relived the freedom born of those moments.



Gazing deep into the north country, I knew the "Presidentials" were out there beyond the lake, and beyond the hills and peaks I could see. In the quiet of the lake-side, I thought of how every summer of my youth climaxed with the hiking trip to Washingtom, Jefferson, Adams and Madison. The annual climbing excursions to the summits of these peaks had become a sacrosanct tradition in my family, and even now by the lake I could hardly wait for the summer hike soon to come. On the summits of the "Presidentials" I had so often felt my soul soar and fly, my spirit become unrestrained and free, like an eagle gliding ever upward toward the sun on the currents of the wind. Often on the summit of these majestic peaks, I would sit out even until way after sunset, feeling in the blaze of color in a twilight sky like nothing or no one could keep me from reaching the "top of the world" with my life and dreams.



There by the lake-side, one treasured summit memory in particular came alive once more, and I could feel as real once again the freedom of that moment. It was a night on the top of Madison. A magnificent sunset gave way to a golden full moon rising in the east. I stayed on that mountain summit even until after midnight, drinking in a feeling of peace and freedom as powerful moonlight beamed down on me from a moon that seemed so close I could touch it. I can remember the perfect peace and bliss I felt as I lay on a stretch of mountain heather and looked out, in the now silver light of a higher moon, over the vast panorama of the Jefferson valley far below. While I laid there for hours on a carefree vacation night, beautiful summer breezes blew white puffy clouds into the mountain and into me. The clouds glowed silver and almost ghost-like in the magnificent moonlight, and in the glowing clouds I felt not only free, but powerful - like Moses in the cloud on Sinai or like Moses before Pharaoh.



Freedom, Peace, Joy, the Power of God, and God himself were so real on that mountain that night. What a magnificent moment that was. What I had yet to realize though is that this Freedom, Peace, and the Power and Presence of God were to be equally as real at Winnepesaukee on that ideal weekend of my youth - so long ago now, and yet for me, never, never to be forgotten.



I remember that my friends and I had finished a great day of swimming and boating for hours and hours - yet hours and hours that again seemed to go by like minutes. It was on a perfect sunny Saturday where the sky was totally blue, and the open lake breezes were "to die for". It was evening now, and we were just finishing a great cookout over an open stone grill. At that time of my youth a "great cookout" always meant a menu that had to include juicy cheeseburgers and char-grilled hot dogs. I can't remember, and don't want to remember, how many of both of those items I had already finished, but I do recall being more than satisfied by the tons of food placed before us. Eating gave way to the family and all my friends just lounging out on the wide-open deck over-looking the lake, and as we did a most gorgeous sunset worked the magic of silencing even a group of teens and filling us all with wonder.



I can remember too the soothing sounds of a summer evening engulfing us. I remember the soft breezes off the lake were just right. I remember my best friend's dad removing the grid off the open-air stone grill, and stoking up the fire for light and warmth. As he did so, we all grew so much more relaxed and gladly continued to sit outside by the open lake into the evening and into the night. I can remember the last glimmers of mauve light on sunset clouds over the open expanse of the huge lake. I remember that the glowing light of the clouds lingered a long time, glowing not only in the evening sky, but also in the perfect mirror reflection that shone off the still, quiet lake. The soft glow from clouds and lake gave way only ever so gradually to the dark, vast sky, filled with millions of stars as one can only see in open country far from city lights, far from city smoke and smog.



I remember how all of us had become so quiet. We had become lulled into a deep peace by the crackling of the wood in the fire and the colorful dancing of the flames. I can remember being put to rest too as we all began to listen to the sounds in the darkness. We all were so drawn to the sounds of the evening, and loved hearing the serenade of crickets and God only knows what other creatures of the night. The last glimmers of natural light were gone now, and only the wood fire in the old stone grill could guide our movements on the deck along the lakefront. But the deep darkness by the firelight was not to be for long, for I can remember the most awesome quiet that came over all of us, as a June full moon now began to rise over the hills to the east. It was amazing how it began to make a luminous path directly toward us over the open expanse of the perfectly still water.









Yes, the evening was filled with the "sounds of silence", and so many moments of quiet awe before the beauty of God's creation. But the evening was filled with the fun of friends and family too. Jokes and great stories sent our laughter out over the lake - laughter accented all the more by the stillness and quiet of the air, the water, and the forest. It was also not too far into the evening before one person in particular stood out with prominence at the center of our jokes and stories. As amazing as it may seem, he was a priest. His name was Fr. Ted, and that weekend on the lake he was also a guest of my best friend's family.



His jokes and stories were awesome. They had come one after another in rapid-fire, and ever so gradually they were drawing us to gather around and near him. He sat near to the fire where we all could see him; where we all could focus on his facial features and expressions, observe his every move and gesture. He was a man so remarkably filled with joy and humor, and at times he would break out into a belly laugh that would make the whole group as well lose it with laughter. All the friends of my youth present were enjoying the challenge of drawing him out more and more, and making him share what were in fact so many hilarious episodes from his past. He loved the attention, and we came to see so quickly that he was an exceptional and gifted storyteller.



But for me and my friends it will always be for one story in particular that we will remember this man for as long as we live. Even now I can remember the whole of it - every detail of the amazing tale he shared that night in the solemn quiet by the fire. The story had an incredible power. Without any exaggeration, it was a story that kept all of us - even a bunch of high school teens - in rapt attention for hours. For me it was the power source for a transformation that has defined me to this day; the power source for an enlightenment that to this day has stayed indelibly lodged in my memory. How deeply the lessons and insights gleaned from that strange tale have guided me and impacted my life ever since that night. I know now the secret to its power was that the Presence of God was so real during its telling. That Presence seemed to issue forth with ever-deepening intensity as each chapter unfolded. For all of us there that night, the Presence of God was so real. It filled our hearts and filled the air. It overwhelmed that profound quiet by the lake front. The story had been nothing short of a powerful sign that God was here, that God was alive, and reaching out to our world and to us with a love beyond all that we can ask or even imagine possible.



I can remember how the story all started. The meal was winding down over home-made ice cream sundaes. Fr. Ted had moved us all toward the laughter of light-hearted conversation, and even silly conversation - conversation with all guards down, and with a beautiful openness and trust of family beginning to bond all of us together. We were "free" with each other, and even our laughter expressed the joy and exhiliration of the freedom that embraced us all that night. We were as free, relaxed, and as comfortable with each other as only best friends and family can be. I have always thought that this feeling of freedom was why Fr. Ted could totally open up as he did, and risk sharing with us all to the measure and depth of truth that he had.



The full moon had risen higher over the lake to the east, and was so high in the sky that its light had gone from gold to silver-white. It now cast a beautiful glow over our lake-side gathering. Fr. Ted became very pensive now. I remember how strange it seemed when his demeanor changed. He gazed first up at the moon, as if it reminded him of something important - perhaps some significant memory from the past. We all knew when the seriousness came over him that the funny stories were over, and that something of great import was now absorbing the whole attention of his mind and heart. He became quiet - ever so quiet. His long gaze upon a beautiful moon ended, and then slowly, he turned and looked toward the north and west - toward the hills and mountains in the deep north country. In the day time, this view to the north and west was beautiful to behold, and even now in brilliant moonlight the purple dark hills stood out strong and tall against a silver night sky. Many of us looked with Fr. Ted as he fixed his gaze high out over the lake in that north and west direction.





But despite the beauty of the hills, all of us could not help but notice the deep sigh that accompanied his gaze and the heavy heart that now filled the expression of the priest. It was as if something traumatic had happened out there, to the north and west of the lake, deep in the far north mountains. Perhaps it was something like a defining moment experience whose memory even to this day deeply moved him. Perhaps the moment had been the source of a powerful revelation that he needed to share. What we could discern was that the power of the truth he carried was too difficult to bear alone. We could all tell that he wanted to talk about it, if only to have others share the burden of the truth, and the power of the truth that he carried. His glance now turned from the hills toward us, and he focused with a solemn authority on all of our faces glowing in the firelight. He searched our eyes to see if he still had our openness, yet now to hear another story quite different from anything he had told so far.



The glow of the moonlight upon the northern hills had indeed revived a powerful memory within the mind and heart of the priest. It was the memory of a story, and that memory now consumed and overwhelmed him. It was a strange and uncommon story that Fr. Ted had heard from another priest only just the summer before our gathering at the lake. The other priest was named Fr. Andrew, and Fr. Ted had helped him the year before with a swelling summer parish in the vacation country of New Hampshire's White Mountains. As we all listened to the start of Fr. Ted's story, we all guessed it - the parish was way deep in the mountains to the north and west of the lake.



Fr. Ted told us that Fr. Andrew's story was a ghost story - and on Halloween night at that! All of us - family, friends, and youth huddled by the lake - smiled at the thought, and now settled into comfortable positions. The fire in the old stone grill simmered now, more than crackled, with a softer yet more intense red and blue flame. Its magic light surrounded and engulfed us, and the storyteller as well, with dancing shadows all in a golden glow. A ghost story by the campfire, and on the "Eve of All Hallows" to top it off! Could it get any better than that?



But though the suggestion of "Halloween and ghosts" had humored all of us into total quiet and full attention, the seriousness of Fr. Ted's expression never relented. He now looked us all in the eyes at that lakeside by the moonlight, and swore to us that the story Fr. Andrew had told him was totally true.



Now being young, carefree, and at the beginning of a fun-filled summer, there were a lot of concerns and questions about life and our world that deep down inside I was no where near ready to take seriously. And certainly ghost stories and Halloween tales were at the top of the list. Yet strangely, I began to listen to that story and heed that story - and really, we all did that night.



So now we were all comfortably settled into place. We had all moved as close as we could - near to the priest, and near to the fire. Our gaze would move from the fire to Fr. Ted, and back to the fire again. There was an enchantment settling over us, and we knew it. Yet it was irresistible, and we let it happen. It started when we fixed our gaze upon the fire - upon the warm glow of that quiet but intense red blue flame in the old stone grill. Yet the enchantment took over when we looked at the priest. It took over when Fr. Ted looked us all in the eyes, and began to speak - and speak with a depth of sincerity and solemnity that we had not seen in him before. It took us all by surprise. He spoke so intently, and the "Spirit" that began to flow forth from his words, his sincere warmth, and his depth of conviction, began to work its spell over all of us. His story unlike any other story began to lure us all totally into its magic.

A True Friend - Johnnie D.

A True Friend – Johnnie D.






Dear Friends,



In Book Two of “Eve of All Hallows, The Power of The Christ”, to be published this fall, I have an “Interlude” dedicated to one of my lifelong friends, Johnnie D. I hope that John, as well as all of my friends, enjoys its message. Here goes:





John – “…He Was a Lamp Burning And Shining,

And You Found Joy in His Light…”



- Jesus, talking about John The Baptist in Jn. 5:35



It was well after midnight now, and we had all been sitting by the campfire for over three hours. Yet the hours had seemed like minutes. What do they say about being in Love, or more precisely, about being in the presence of God? The hours go by like minutes, and even an eternity in the Presence of divine Love will seem timeless, will seem like a moment. And it was the presence of God that we were all feeling now. It was a spellbound awe in the presence of the Holy, but also an awe in the light of the Gospel and its power to release the Holy into our world - an awe that must have paralleled the awe of the shepherds before the angelic Light that pierced their own night on that first Christmas.



During each of the interludes in the story, either Lawr or Johnnie D. - and sometimes Michael and myself - would go to get more wood for the fire. But it was Lawr and Johnnie really who were the watchkeepers of the fire that night. With each pause in the story they would get up, and guided only by moonlight, quickly run over to the pile of stacked wood along the side of the lake cottage.



Unlike Michael and me, when Lawr and John came back from the pile, six or seven logs all at once rested on one of their muscular shoulders - and those all wrapped within the fold of one muscular arm. Let's just leave it at this - that Michael and I couldn't do that. In any case, mostly because of the vigilance of John and Lawr, now, hours later, the blue flames of logs burned right to their core still kept a full and vibrant fire crackling and sizzling quietly in the dark - yet still with a sound that was in stark contrast to the late night silence of the forest.



It was the segments in Fr. Ted's story about the Gospel and its Power that makes me want to reminisce about the awesome witnesses to the Faith that both Johnnie D. and Michael were also to become, even by their college years – much like the great Lawrence himself (Lawr!)! Johnnie D. and Michael, like all the rest of us around that campfire, were cut to the heart by Fr. Ted's story. Very much like Lawr - and unlike me - Johnnie D. and Michael were quick to open their hearts that very night to God's Presence. In the days, weeks, and months to come, they kept in touch with Fr. Ted, each seeking through his counsel and friendship to fill their soul and spirit with more of the transforming Power and Presence of Christ. How that Power and Presence had moved them, and all of us so deeply, just from the telling of Fr. Ted's tale - a tale of the supernatural on one special night, by the light of one special fire, so long, long ago.



I have already said much about Michael – about his leadership, his sharp insight and wit, and his charisma, especially with women. But John in no way was less in stature. He was a young man gifted and graced in so many ways, and he could always rise to the challenge of matching Michael – matching him as readily in the academic arena as out there on the athletic field.



As for after that summer weekend by the lake, John would go on from our high school to the University of Maryland, and there made his bold stand for Christ. In one challenging situation after another, John would witness intrepidly to the Power and Presence of Christ alive in our lives in our own day and time. I have loved so many of the stories of witness that Johnnie D. has shared with me over the years. So many of these he still shares on the high school Antioch Retreats that we now run together as adults.



One story in particular captures so well the kind of courage for the Gospel that is so characteristic of John. It is a story that explains why to so many, including myself, it is the role and power of an Evangelist that marks and defines John's bold witness to youth in the Church today.









As John tells it, he was going to daily Mass in Lent during one of his college years in Maryland. For those daily liturgies the priest celebrant would invite the students to gather up in the sanctuary around the main altar. The celebrant also encouraged dialogue homilies each day, and after he gave his priestly reflection on the scriptures, the students could share their own insights as well.



During one of these daily dialogue sessions, a young co-ed shared something that was extremely problematic for John. And though it was a young co-ed who shared it, it could just as easily have been any one of a thousand different young men too – a thousand and more who though alive and well out there in the Church today seem to be oblivious to the central and core concepts of Christianity, God knows why!



After the priest’s sharing, the co-ed was the first to speak up from among the many students gathered around that main altar. She was reflecting in response to one of the divine pronouncement passages in John's Gospel that had just been used at Mass. These are passages where Jesus clearly claims equality with God (Jn. 5:18). In this case the passage was one where Jesus clearly applied the divine name to Himself that Yahweh had revealed to Moses (Jn. 8:58) - "...before Abraham came to be I am."



The co-ed shared quite brazenly that as far as she was concerned, Jesus had problems - or to put it bluntly, had a "God-complex" like Jeremiah and so many of the other prophets who had a "pipeline to God" mentality. "Today we know better...", she said, "...than to believe in anyone who felt that as far as getting to God was concerned, it was their way or the highway. It’s preposterous for anyone to claim exclusive and privileged access to the divine, as if their way was the only way to God."



Johnnie D. was sitting there quietly around the Table of the Lord and in the context of the Eucharist, wondering why someone who thought this way would even be at the Mass in the first place. There was a prolonged silence. It was a dramatic silence, like that silent moment in film before the attack, the eruption. Or, put in more positive light, it was the quiet moment before a great and wonderful revelation, the quiet moment before Dorothy or Lucy opens a door to a whole new and beautiful world.



John studied the face of the priest and of all the students surrounding the altar to see if anyone was going to say something. The Gospel was at stake. No one spoke. But then, as is characteristic of John, and of anyone with his kind of charisma, he boldly spoke up, “driven irresistibly by the Spirit” to do so.



Yes, St. Paul’s words are meant here literally: “driven irresistibly by the Spirit”! Johnnie D. always shares on our retreats how in that moment he could feel the anointing of the Holy Spirit come upon him with Power. Perhaps, John has often reflected with me, it was much like Mary experienced when the Power of the Most High overshadowed her. Johnnie is so adamant in his challenges to me that his experience may well have been like that of the Blessed Mother. If she is the Mother of the Church, why should what is true for her not be true for us? Why, John insists, should we not expect that what is true for her, would also be true for the Church to follow and model?



In any case, it was abundantly clear to John during this dialogue homily that the Spirit of God was powerfully anointing him. As never before my friend felt with certainty that it was the Spirit Who was about to speak His Word through John as through the Lord's chosen instrument in that moment. Like Mary, John was about to bring Christ into the world, and into that sanctuary.



There at the main altar, before the priest and all present, Johnnie D. began his response to the co-ed by quoting from the Gospel of John, both John 14:6, and then John 12:32. From John 14 he read the words of Jesus that "...I am the way, the truth, and the Life, and no one comes to the Father but by Me.” From John 12 he read the words of Jesus, “…And I, when I am lifted up from the earth (on the Cross!), will draw all men to himself."







John shares in his talks with youth today how when he read these Words at that college Mass, they were alive and powerful, filling the sanctuary with the tangible Presence of God's Spirit. Johnnie reflects now on our retreats how he always knew the teaching of the Church - that when the Word is proclaimed at Mass, the Risen Jesus is rendered as present in the assembly as when the words of consecration are spoken over the gifts of bread and wine.



But John shares how in this moment during that dialogue homily, he knew that teaching for the first time not only with his mind, but with his heartas well. In that sanctuary that day, he could feel the Power of God's Love become present when God's Word was spoken. The Words were Spirit and Life, and God's Word spoken and proclaimed released the Holy Spirit into the whole assembly. Suddenly, Words that were living and active, and sharper than a two-edged sword, pierced to the hearts of everyone there. It was as if John's reflection upon God's Word rendered present the Spirit and Power of the Risen Christ.



What was his reflection in the light of God's Word from the Gospel of John? Johnnie D. explained that because of Jesus' Resurrection, He was "the way" that God has chosen for humanity to enter into His Life and Love. In fact, Johnnie D. himself was at the Eucharist they were now celebrating to do precisely that - enter into communion with Jesus' Life, Love, and Power. John stated boldly that the Resurrection sets Jesus and His teaching apart from the Founders of all the world’s religions. In the light of the Resurrection, Christianity and communion with Christ are God's way to enter into His own Heart, the Life and Spirit of His Son.



"But did the Resurrection really happen?" the co-ed retorted swiftly. But John too was quick to answer. What is this Eucharist, he replied, if not "the way" we enter into the Spirit of the Risen Christ, and become filled with the Love of the One Who was given up for us? "In the Eucharist", John said, "I expect to enter into union with the Risen Christ, and know in Him the Love and Spirit of the Father present in power to my life. And if you open your heart to His Risen Presence, you will experience that Power and Presence as well.”



“A personal Pentecost after all is the sign given to all of us that Jesus did rise from the dead and is now seated at the right hand of the Father. Jesus Himself said that when he would go to the Father, He would send His Spirit to us. In Eucharist, when we partake of His Body and Blood, we too are filled with the Spirit of Pentecost, and know even as the apostles did that only in Jesus do we find our way to God - only in union with Him, with His Spirit, does humanity become empowered like Christ to go to the Father as well."



There was now another kind of silence that came over that small assembly after John had finished speaking. It was a holy silence, a silence filled with the Presence of God. The priest looked at John with wonder and amazement, much as a father beaming with pride over a son who had just spoken with courage before a vast assembly. It is true too that each time John tells this story to yet another group of youth on our retreats, that same awesome silence settles over all of us. I have been on so many of those retreats, and seen this myself. Much like on that special night by the fire long ago, I too have felt with all the youth there on those retreats, that holy silence rich with God’s fire, a silence where our hearts burn with the Life and Love of the Risen Jesus - the Risen Jesus Who is present in power to us as well, alive and still with us in our own day and time.



But a final thought here is imperative. Each time Johnnie D. shares that story, like the priest in that U of M chapel, I too beam with pride over my friend. I feel so proud of him for speaking up - that he did what did, and that he did it for Jesus. I feel proud that such a man is honored to be my friend. His courage to proclaim Christ is exemplary, and so desperately needed today.













Contemporary society can be such a dark place – a dark world void of God’s Love, a world excising even the mention of God from it academic arenas and forums, from its assemblies and market places. How desperately then our society of today needs persons of courage to proclaim Christ, to proclaim that He is risen and still here in the midst of us. How desperately the world of today needs to know the Light of God’s Love as real and powerfully present to us. How desperately the world of today, tormented and terrified by its own darkness, needs to know the Power of God’s Light in the face of Evil, the Power of His Love as a real force for freedom - the freedom of a Love casting out all fear from our lives.



Yes, I feel proud that I have such a man of God for a friend, someone who has been my friend and brother since high school. I feel proud that such a man has stood with me and by me in the cause of Christ for the whole of my adult life. He is that rare friend who has especially stood by me even in the shadow of my cross. He is that rare friend who has imaged to me the unconditional love of God, even when it meant for him stepping out onto the water, and facing for me and with me the winds and waves of a storm at sea.

Larsan’s Funeral

Yes, as St. Paul says, our time on this earth is not meant to last forever – "We have not here our eternal home." How deeply that truth was brought home to me and to all who attended Larsan's wake and funeral over the last two days.

Our labor and suffering here is meant to prepare us for eternal weight of Glory in a world beyond our own – and again, as St. Paul says, the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing to the Glory that awaits us. And Larsan now sees the Glory!

The students at our school were at the services to the point of overflowing, and all seemed so open to this message – that Larsan has already what the rest of us still strive for, and strive for so often through cost, cross, crisis, and challenge.

The numbers at the wake and funeral were unbelievable. Over five hundred cars followed the hearse to the cemetery from the Church. Two lanes of the highway were blocked by the police for the five mile stretch on Rte. 95. Larsan was laid to rest in the cemetery right across the street from school property. White doves were released into the air after the closing prayer at the gravesite.

On Friday evening over a thousand people came to pay their respects. The waiting line went out the Church – the wake was in the Church – and around the whole parking lot into the neighborhood beyond. I said to Larsan's mother that it was a miracle that she and Larsan's father were able to greet all those people, and give each person their special moment with them. She agreed. She said the Lord strengthened her for that challenge, and that she would have had it no other way than to honor each and every person who came out to pay their respects to her son.

As for the Feehan students. I was bursting with pride and love for them. Three of them gave tributes to Larsan at the funeral, and all of their talks centered on how he was a witness to Christ's love for us all. They shared too so many examples of how Larsan demonstrated courage and strength through Christ to proclaim His Love boldly by his words and deeds – "I can do all things through Christ Who strengthens me." (Phil. 4:13)

What I saw so profoundly throughout the whole time of our coming together was how much became "sacraments" to each other – people who allowed the power of Christ's Love to reach out through our love, and touch and heal and strengthen others in the process. It was like the embodiment of what the "Mission Talk" on the Antioch urges us to become: "sacraments to the world". Especially in the student tributes before the whole congregation, you could feel that their words were a word from God, for through their words all of us were inspired, comforted, and strengthened. Those students were truly vessels of Grace. The whole experience was a true celebration of Church, "Church" as a people filled with the Holy Spirit, and through the power of the Holy Spirit, a people becoming the Face of Christ for each other.

In my prayer during the service it was so clear just how much we need people, especially to face the unthinkable, which the tragic loss of Larsan's life truly was. Unless we come together in times like that we cannot handle such "dark hours" in our lives. We were truly not meant to handle such crises all alone. Yes, "I can do all things through Christ Who strengthens me", but how much His Love wants to reach out and touch our lives through others.

Well. There's so much more I could write about, but enough for now. Forgive me if I got too heavy in this letter, but realize that I just have come through a most anointed and graced experience. It was that experience, more than any other right now that I felt led in the Spirit to share with you.

To all my friends, let us all live for the praise of his glory, for whatever "season" it is given to us by the Lord to live on this earth…

I hold you all in my heart,

In His Love for you,

Peace,

Doug +

A World In Desperate Need of Jesus

 

 

 

Henri! Hey there!

 

In this letter I'm going to reflect on the next essential point of the Gospel: "…be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins; and you shall receive the gift of the Holy Spirit." (Acts of The Apostles 2:38) Specifically, let's focus on the need we all have to seek forgiveness of our sins by "baptism" – that is, immersion in God's Love through the gift of the Holy Spirit. Even your journey and mine to the fullness of God's Love in us must be out of and from a world steeped in sin. We too have been in that world and part of it.

 

But before we get into that, remember how I told you that I thought it might be fun if we used "Under The Tuscan Sun" to illustrate the meaning of the Gospel. So this morning I was reviewing the film on the Internet. Don't tell anyone, but I've come to love computers and the Internet – it puts a whole world library right at your fingertips!!! Believe me, the Doug Michaud of ten years ago would never have said something like that about computers.

 

I love "Tuscan Sun" because of the whole "Paschal Mystery" framework of the film. "Paschal Mystery" is the death and resurrection of Jesus, which we participate in through our communion with Christ. Through the Power of Christ, communicated through the Word of God and sacraments, we too pass from "death" to "life" in union with Him. This means that through the Power of Christ's Love we pass from brokenness to healing, from despair to hope, from darkness to Light; from being scarred, wounded, hurt and torn apart by sin in the world to being made whole and strong and free to love once more even as Christ loved us.

 

The whole California sequence in "Tuscan Sun" shows a broken world, a world in "sin". I don't remember if I taught you that the Greek word for "sin" is "harmartia"? Well, it is. And "harmartia" is actually an archery term, meaning to "miss the mark", "miss the target". "Sin" therefore is human lives "missing the mark", falling short of the ideal of Christ's Love, human lives twisted out of focus, human hearts and souls becoming cold and hardened to love because of the way sin and wickedness in the world have hurt us. (Matthew 24:12)

 

Thus, you have in the film the divorce (brokenness!) that tears Frances apart, the apartment house filled with divorcees, where you can actually hear people "weeping and wailing in this valley of tears." (Words from the prayer, "Hail Holy Queen")

 

It's also a twisted world, a disordered world that militates against the plan, order, and design that the God Who is Love (1 John 4:8) wants for our world. Consider the lesbian couple who want to toast over dinner to Frances' new found "freedom". Yet it is not at all a concept of "Christian freedom" that they are toasting to, but a "license" for Frances to do now whatever the "hell" she wants to do. There is no "right" or "wrong"; no natural written upon our hearts; no absolute Good or absolute Evil – kind of like what liberals want us to believe in contemporary American culture, and perhaps even more so in California!

 

So California in the film is the disordered world, a world in sin. Yet don't be mistaken here. Frances is part of that world – and so are you and I. Remember Jesus words to the people who wanted to stone the woman caught in the act of adultery: "Let him among you who are without sin be the first to cast a stone at her." (John 8:7) Remember also Jesus' story of "The Pharisee and The Publican". (Luke 18:9-14) Jesus condemns the Pharisee who felt He could stand righteous before the Lord in the Temple and say, "I thank you, God, that I am not like other men." But about the Publican (A Tax Collector), Jesus says, "…he went home at rights with God…" Why? It was because before God in the Temple, he would not even dare to raise his eyes. But bowed low before the Lord, he only repeated over and over, "God, be merciful to me, a sinner."

 

So Frances begins a journey – both an actual geographical journey to another place, but also a spiritual journey to healing and wholeness through the Power of Christ's Love. That love is imaged to her through Mary, the ultimate "transparency" of God's Love.

 

Now any window is a "transparency" – something that we do not look at, but rather something we look through. In "Tuscan Sun" Mary is a transparency to the Sun – or if you are open to the symbolism of the film, to the "Son", to her "Son", Jesus. Mary is a transparency to the Love of the Son, a window through which we can reach for and touch the Love of the Son, the fullness of the Love of God.

 

The name of the Villa that Frances purchases is called "Bramasole", which means "pining" or "yearning for the Sun" ("Son"!!!). But everywhere in the Villa are signs of Mary – 3 actually that I remember - and ever so slowly Frances will learn that Mary will be the medium, the vehicle, the window through which Frances will touch the "love of the Son". Through Mary, Frances will reach for and achieve the Love of the Son for which she is really yearning.

 

Henri, do you remember the night of the storm? When her friend Patti mentions "Tom", the husband that left Frances, the deep night "storm" outside in the Tuscan countryside ignites with fury. It is a metaphor for the storm within Frances, for her soul and heart torn apart.

 

But when in the fury of the storm, she "touches Mary", immediately there is a "sharp cut" in the film to a beautiful and peaceful morning. The "stormy night" is over; there is peace. It is a very significant scene that in many ways symbolizes what is going to happen in the film – and in Baptism as well. Through the Power of the Son's Love that we touch through Mary, darkness gives way to Light, a heart torn apart and broken is healed and made whole again.

 

Did you know that the Greek word "diabalein", from which we get the English word, "diabolic", means "to tear apart". It translates a Hebrew word that means the same, but which also means "to tear a man limb from limb". Interestingly enough, that Hebrew word also means as well "to gossip".

 

Now we're only scratching the surface so far with the Gospel brought to life through the film, "Tuscan Sun". There's so much more! But as you know from eating so many Italian meals, you shouldn't have all the courses of the meal all at once. You must have pauses between them to allow yourself the chance to savor what you have eaten.

 

So let's pause here and try to digest what we have looked at so far: 1.) Making a "leap of Faith" by accepting Jesus as our Lord and Savior; realizing too that we need a Savior. 2.) Allowing the Power of the Spirit to help us turn from the darkness and sin of this world to the Light of His Love. That will be the way we most powerfully experience God's Grace in our lives. It will be in the healing of our own sin by the power of His Risen presence anointing us in and through the Person of the Holy Spirit. 3.) That the world apart from God is in sin, twisted out of the true pattern and design which God's Love had planned for it; that we are part of that world, and by our own power cannot break free of it. We can and will experience God's Spirit empowering our own "Paschal Journey" from the world steeped in sin to "Church" in a most authentic sense – "Church" understood as a people filled with the Spirit of His Love and having the courage before the world to be the Face of Christ's Love for each other.

 

As always, I fear I may be getting too deep; or, giving too much of the "Gospel meal" all at once. But I pray that the Lord may use these words I write to lead you more and more into the Light of His Love for you.

 

For now it is enough. Next time we'll look at that last part of the Gospel proclamation by Peter: "…and you shall receive the gift of the Holy Spirit." (Acts 2:38)

 

Until then I pray that in ever-deepening ways, our Lord may continue to bless you with the fullness and Power of His Love.

 

Peace,

Mr. Michaud +

 

Interlude 1

The Light Beyond Smoke and Mirrors, Lies and Illusions, Darkness and Dreams


Fr. Ted had deeply impressed both Larry and me with his "fingers versus focus" metaphor. But especially for my friend, there was something about that metaphor that was reaching deep into Larry, that was ministering to him with an import that I would have no way of understanding at that time. The next day after the powerful campfire story, Lawr told me that Fr. Ted had explained the "fingers versus focus" metaphor even further to him. The two of them had gone for a long "walk and talk" down by the lake. Before long they had sat themselves down out on the pier for a deeper sharing - all about what deeper meaning they could intuit from Fr. Andrew's adventure on the "eve of all hallows". But it was then too that the priest had volunteered "the other half" to the meaning of the metaphor that had so impressed my friend.

Using Fr. Andrew as his quintessential example, Fr. Ted had assured Larry that a focus on the Lord empowers a person to journey far toward dreams of great Love, Love like that of the Cross, "Love like only a God could love". But like Fr. Andrew, Fr. Ted warned Larry to beware of the "nightmares" that fear would use to obstruct his path.

Referring to the "fingers versus focus" exercise we had all done the night before, Fr. Ted had asked Larry if there was anything else he noticed happening when his eyes were fixed upon the cross through his fingers. Yes, Larry could "see through" one of his fingers, but was there anything else?

Lawr told the priest there was, not only for himself, but for all of us. He had noticed while focused on Christ that he suddenly saw more than four fingers. The four fingers were simply out of focus, and like illusions appearing out of nowhere, suddenly there seemed to be more than four there.

Fr. Ted had responded quickly to Larry's observation, as if it were all-important to seize this moment and the insights that could be gleaned from it. "Precisely!" he said. "When you keep your focus on Christ, beware of the finger illusions that seem to suddenly appear out of nowhere. In life these illusions parallel the nightmares born of fear that also threaten to undermine our focus."

"Fear will use them to even further attack us, to intensify the cost, cross, crises, and challenges that already stand in our way. The dark illusions are storm-like, beast-like - menacing. How they do threaten to steal our focus. Then they become like the fingers – bars, barriers; a ‘wall’ if you will, that forever obstructs our vision of Christ, that tempts us away from the Love of God; that sabotages our journey to the dreams born of His Love and burning within us."

“In fact, the bars, the barriers, the ‘wall’ are like the Cross of Christ which in some manner all humanity must face – that is, all humanity ‘born again’, all humanity made alive and animated with His Love. Such persons filled with the Spirit and on fire with His Love will always see The Cross before them. And they must journey through it if they are ever to pass over into the Resurrection. The Cross is the ultimate ‘wall’ before which dreams of Love die, and the journey to freedom stops in the face of Fear.”

“But in Christ this need not be so. In communion with Him, Grace will always lead us home.”

"So don't let Fear steal your focus. Always remember the metaphor. Once you focus on the fingers - the fears and the challenges - Christ beyond the fingers, beyond the barriers, becomes blurry and out-of-focus. The Lord at the heart of our lives becomes dethroned, and Fear obliterates the Power that comes only from our focus on the goal and dream of Christ. We become like Peter sinking in the sea, consumed with Fear at the sight of storm and raging seas. He lost focus.”


“But thank God that the focus was Christ, He Who Loves like only God could love. Jesus not only leads us to Himself, but holds on to us in the storm. Clinging to Him, we then know the Power of God’s Love, the only Love that can empower us to complete the journey."

Fr. Ted paused here. By this point Larry, and indeed all of us youth gathered on that weekend, could tell when the trademark pause of this priest was about to happen. In his rush of excitement about Christ, His Love, God’s Truth and Wisdom, Fr. Ted would suddenly stop, but with a look first of dawning self-awareness - as if to say that he was suddenly aware of how much he had got carried away; as if to say that he suddenly realized how much he had gone on and on, perhaps too long.

But not really – at least to any and all of us teens. Had we not listened with rapt attention for hours the night before to the story he had told with passion and intensity? Yet though the story consumed all the hours of the night that we would need for rest, all sense of time had ceased, and hours and hours had seemed to fly by like minutes.

In the quiet of that “signature Fr. Ted pause” Larry sat still, pensive and prayerful. He didn't want to move. He didn't want the power of this moment to end. Again he felt it, as he had felt it so strongly the night before in the quiet of the campfire light. In Fr. Ted's presence he felt the communication of Grace into his heart and soul. Here was a man who was a "channel of God's Peace", a source of God's Light and Love for others. Here was a man who like Fr. Andrew in the story, was a "sacrament" to the world.

Little lake waves slapped against the pier and the beach, and Lawr took in how beautiful the early morning sun was shining on the lake and on the rising hills beyond. Something so important happened in that moment between teacher and student, between master and disciple. Larry reached beyond fear into friendship, reached out beyond fear toward the goal of forming a life-long friendship with that priest, a friendship that would be for Larry sacred and "sacramental" in the years to come - "sacramental" in ways far beyond what he could ever dare to dream possible on that morning by the lake long ago.

I think back now to how powerful that sacred friendship was in Larry's life. I reminisce as well to how that friendship could only happen back then in that time before fear - a time long ago now, a time before “blasphemy against the Holy Spirit” (Mk. 3:28-30). It was a time before we were taught to be suspicious, taught to see Satan behind every smile, taught to look for and focus on the dark side of every sunrise.

It was a time before fear when we opened with trust to the experience of Christ's Life and Love in Fr. Ted's presence, and in the presence of so many of God’s priests. The healing Love of Christ reaching out through them to touch and transform our lives was so real and powerful. It was so real and powerful that I, Lawr, and others could believe the priest was the man of God he was called to be.

But fear has stolen our focus today. I believe that Christ is still alive in His People today – and especially in His Priests. Yet how much Fear has so infected our power to see Him - to see Him, and to believe that He is in fact present in power to our lives in the person of the people who love us, and want with all their hearts to be for us the face of His Love.

Trinity-Cor Blog Site

Welcome to the new Trinity-Cor Blog Site! Check out the latest reflection on the "Tri-Cor" Facebook Page. I'll be transposing the reflection to this Blog site within the day...