Canada's Editorial on "Only in America"

The following reflection is most compelling - especially as I watch the continuing demise of the America I love, the surrender of our Judeo-Christian heritage to the secular, socialist and liberal agenda, and the relentless assault of our movies and state-controlled media on the bedrock biblical values of our Founding Fathers...

 This is Canada's Top Ten List of America's Stupidity... Canada's

>version of David Letterman's "Top 10"
>
>10. Only in America ... Could politicians talk about the greed of the
>rich at a $35,000.00 a plate campaign fund-raising event.
>
>9. Only in America ... Could people claim that the government still
>discriminates against black Americans when they have a black
>President, a black Attorney General and roughly 20% of the federal
>workforce is black while only 14% of the population is black. 40+% of
>all federal entitlements goes to black Americans?" 3X the rate that go
>to whites, 5X the rate that go to Hispanics!
>
>8. Only in America ... Could they have had the two people most
>responsible for our tax code, Timothy Geithner (the head of the
>Treasury Department) and Charles Rangel (who once ran the Ways and
>Means Committee), BOTH turn out to be tax cheats who are in favor of
>higher taxes.
>
>7. Only in America ... Can they have terrorists kill people in the
>name of Allah and have the media primarily react by fretting that
>Muslims might be harmed by the backlash.
>
>6. Only in America ... Would they make people who want to legally
>become American citizens wait for years in their home countries and
>pay tens of thousands of dollars for the privilege, while they discuss
>letting anyone who sneaks into the country illegally just 'magically'
>become American citizens.
>
>5. Only in America ... Could the people who believe in balancing the
>budget and sticking by the country's Constitution be thought of as
>"extremists."
>
>4. Only in America ... Could you need to present a driver's license to
>cash a check or buy alcohol, but not to vote.
>
>3. Only in America ... Could people demand the government investigate
>whether oil companies are gouging the public because the price of gas
>went up when the return on equity invested in a major U.S. Oil company
>(Marathon Oil) is less than half of a company making tennis shoes
>(Nike).
>
>2. Only in America ... Could the government collect more tax dollars
>from the people than any nation in recorded history, still spend a
>Trillion dollars more than it has per year - for total spending of
>$7Million PER MINUTE, and complain that it doesn't have nearly enough
>money.
>
>1. Only in America ... Could the rich people - who pay 86% of all
>income taxes - be accused of not paying their "fair share" by people
>who don't pay any income taxes at all.
>
>And that, Ladies and Gentlemen, are why we Americans are so stupid to
keep voting for Liberals and Moderates in BOTH parties but more so, the
Liberal Democrats. And we could give you a Top Ten List for Maryland
alone, yet who do, we the people, continue to vote in?
>
>
>"To announce that there must be no criticism of the President, or that
>we are to stand by the President, right or wrong, is not only
>unpatriotic and servile, but is morally treasonable to the American
>public."
>Theodore Roosevelt - 26th US President

WHAT MATTERS TO MARY OUR HEAVENLY MOTHER

WHAT MATTERS TO MARY

        “An immortal soul is beyond all price. There is no trouble too great, no humiliation too deep, no suffering too severe, no love too strong, no labor too hard, no expense too large, but that it is worth it, if it is spent in the effort to win a soul for God.”

            So often it is through the voice of Mary that we are led by the Spirit into what matters to God. Over the course of my forty years of being a husband, father, youth minister and teacher, I can’t begin to tell you how many times that voice followed by an irresistible urge has led me to be an instrument of beautiful moments – moments where Christ is made known and the Spirit of His Love penetrates powerfully into the lives of my family, friends, colleagues, and students.   

            One such moment happened this week and it is difficult to express in words how profoundly it moved me.

            It started a few days ago when I received a call from a good friend that the mother of a family very dear to me was in the intensive care unit of a major Boston hospital. Since 1972 she and her husband, as well as their daughter, had teamed with me on countless Antioch retreats. And as anyone who has been on Antiochs would know they had shared with me some of the happiest moments of joy-filled love and community that I have ever known.

            The close contact to my dying friend got back to me the next evening with the hospital’s name and address. She also gave me the room number at the hospital, as well as a direct line phone number for that room. I was determined to visit though I had never been to Boston Medical Center, and was not at all familiar with where it was, the Roxbury section of Boston.

            But determined as I was to visit, I had no idea, intention, or plan to be by my friend’s bedside within ten hours of getting the hospital info. Yet our Heavenly Mother had a different plan, and ten hours later by my friend’s bedside is exactly where I would be.

            Events moved quickly upon receiving the hospital information. I received a text very early, even before dawn the next morning from my close contact with my friend’s family. The text told me that my friend had taken a turn for the worse around 3:00 AM that night. The text told me that my friend was failing fast, and all indications were that soon, very soon, she would pass from this life.

            Was it “by chance” or “by Providence” I had been asked the previous evening to that text to drive someone into Boston’s Logan Airport – to drive someone into the airport for 8:00 AM the same morning that I had received the urgent text? By Providence of course! If ever I have known the guiding Hand of God’s Love reaching out to me through Mary, it was that morning of my friend’s passing. So it was that by 7:00 AM on the morning of my friend’s passing I was heading into Boston’s airport at the height of rush hour traffic.

            How did I know that this morning was different – a morning that in a special way that would be led and guided by a heavenly hand? First there was the gentle whisper of Mary telling me that “You will need to see her now.” The voice was unmistakable. That quiet, serene yet firm voice of our Heavenly Mother was speaking to me – that same voice which magnifies the Lord’s Love so magnificently, that same voice that has guided me to such beautiful moments with family, friends, and students so many times over the years was again speaking to me now.

            Was it really a voice from the Queen of Heaven? The irresistible urge that always follows upon the call of Divine Love made the Source of the message all too clear to me.

            But even more than that, there were the unmistakable signs that Mary was at work here, our Heavenly Mother doing in the life of her child, my dying friend, what she does in the lives of all Her children: leading my friend into the fullness of Her Son’s embrace, leading my friend into the fullness of the Life, the Love, and the Joy of Jesus.

            What were the signs of Her leading, of God working through Mary to make this visit happen? The signs were the clear and compelling indications all along the course of my journey that the Power of Heaven was making this visit happen – making a way for the visit to happen at a time when usually there would be no way for it to happen.

            For example, where was “rush hour” that morning? A Wednesday in a work week, yet the traffic on the highway into Boston’s airport that morning was light to moderate, and moving well at all times. Before I knew it I was at Logan well before 8:00 AM, and already I sensed – no, rather I knew – that a Heavenly Hand was at work in my life in a special way that morning.  

            At the point of 8:00 AM at the airport the urge to visit my friend at Boston Medical was irresistible. Mary would see to it that the Spirit of God was upon me, and that driven by the Spirit I’d be the agent of God’s Love that morning.

            I set the GPS for the hospital’s address, and the GPS told me that Boston Medical was only fifteen minutes away. There was no way that could be true at that hour in work day traffic. What did the GPS know about Boston’s formidable “rush hour”? But then again maybe the GPS in some mystic way knew of the Powers at work this morning in a way that I had still yet to believe possible.

            Still the visit to the bedside of my friend was now an imperative. I was consumed at this point with an irresistible urge and need to heed a Heavenly summons. I believed that I was answering a call from Mary to be the instrument of God’s Peace and Love in the life of my friend. What a solemn, wondrous thought, yet at the same time a thought so sobering and humbling – that such an awesome Grace should be granted to us, a Grace that we need to be open to: that we are called to be the agent of God’s Love in the lives of others, especially in the lives of the people we love; the incredible Grace that our lives and our love in Christ can be healing balm, an oasis of life and water in the desert of this world, a light in the dark moments of human life and the “salt” of our earthly existence.

            So from Logan at 8:00 AM on Wednesday, August 7^th, I set out for Boston Medical. I had to. The  “rush of the Spirit” was upon me.

            And as with the trip into Boston, the “rush hour” traffic was nowhere to be found. Even as I went from Logan through the Ted Williams tunnel and then on to the Mass Pike extension, I did the whole trip in nothing more than light traffic. Yet how could that be? Time and time again in my work I do this same route at the height of “rush hour” and experience nothing less than “grid lock” traffic – especially in the Ted Williams Tunnel between eight and nine in the morning. But on this special day nothing – light traffic at all times, as pleasant as cruising through the countryside on a Sunday afternoon.

            I was at the hospital in the fifteen minutes foretold by the GPS, a time calculated of course for an open highway with no delays and hold-ups. And today that is exactly the way it was – no grid lock, no rush hour, no delays.

            Approaching the hospital I could see that up and down the length of Mass Ave. every parking space on either side of the road was taken. I expected that. It’s always that way in Boston on a busy work morning. But deep within me I was surprised to hear the words, “Oh you of little faith!” as I now saw only one open space – and that right in front of the entrance to the hospital. I literally could not believe it. I searched for a sign that would say “Parking in this spot is forbidden!” but there was no such sign. It was an open space right where I needed to have an open space. “Oh you of little faith!!!”  Believe me, the Lord, His Mother, and all the Saints have an incredible sense of humor, and Heaven will be filled with the laughter shared by those in Love.

            Yet though there was a parking space, parking at that spot would require quarters for the parking meter, one for each fifteen minutes of my visit. I had no change so I parked and then went quickly in the hospital entrance. I saw two food court places where I could possibly get change: a Duncan Donuts and a D’Angelo’s.

            The Duncan Donuts had a line with 20 people in it waiting for coffee. That would not do. The D’Angelo’s however had no line, but obviously it was also not the kind of place to be open at eight in the morning. Not to worry though… There behind the service counter of the D’Angelo’s was a smiling Hispanic gentlemen standing at the cash register and looking directly at me. That welcoming smile led me to approach him. I asked him if he could make change for me so that I could have some quarters for the parking meter. He said that they were not open, but still he would be glad to help me.

            In a moment quarters were in hand to pay for a car parked only seconds away. It was by this time that I was thinking “How I wish every day of my life would be like this!!!” Nothing was a problem that on any other day could and would be a problem. It was destined to be the case this morning that nothing was to stand in my way this day as I carried out my divinely appointed mission – and I knew now beyond a doubt that this was in fact the nature of my task – I was this day sent by my Heavenly Mother to be about Our Father’s business.      

            So no more than twenty minutes after I had left the airport I was at the bedside of my dying friend. Only by chance as well (But not really “by chance”!), I had left in my car the rosary I had purchased to give to my friend during my visit. Truly the visit was happening sooner than I had intended, sooner than I had planned, but the guiding Hand of God’s Love had made sure my gift would be with me when the Lord and His Mother wanted the visit to happen.

            There at my friend’s bedside I saw what I had seen with my own father’s passing only two months earlier, the signs of a person nearing the end of their earthly life and preparing to pass on to Eternity. My friend could not talk, and there was that semi-sleep of someone moving in and out of consciousness.

            I put the rosary in her hand, and told her that I was there. Over and over I repeated to her that Jesus and Mary loved her, and as those words comforted her I saw a light in her eyes. It was the light of peace, the light of an excited child when they know for certain that they are valued, cherished and loved. More than that it was the Light of Christmas and Easter, the Light of Christ’s Presence, the Light with which we glow when we experience Jesus with us and in us, alive in our midst, powerfully present and drawing us into His embrace.

            Silently I then I prayed over my friend that what I already saw happening would indeed happen, that Mary would lead my friend into the fullness of her Son’s embrace, into that fullness of Holy Communion with the Life, Love, and Joy of Jesus Her Son.

            After my visit I was to learn that my friend passed from this life only hours later. God had planned that visit, and Mary was His instrument to make it happen when and how it did.

            I sensed that even as it was happening, but then at the funeral I learned that there was a larger picture to the mission of Mary that morning which I had yet to understand. For my friend Mary our Heavenly Mother was the only Mother she was ever to have. My friend’s earthly mother went into a coma shortly after my friend’s birth, and remained in that state for thirteen years until she died. My friend from a very early age had turned to Mary for the comfort and closeness of the mother she would never have, and Mary responded powerfully to her plea and prayer. In Mary’s embrace I always saw in my friend the courage to proclaim Christ without fear. I always saw fulfilled in my friend the words of Mary spoken to all of us at Guadalupe: “Why do you fear? Do you not know that you are within the folds of my cloak, do you not know that you are in my arms?”

            And above all that same courage in Mary’s embrace is what I saw in my friend in the hours before her passing. Mary held her, carried her, and in Mary’s embrace she passed on without fear into the fullness of Holy Communion with Christ.   

  

           

Defining Moments With My Dad

DEFINING MOMENTS WITH MY DAD

            More than any other reflection I ever write, the one that follows captures so perfectly for me what an inspiration my dad was. He was the face of Christ for me, a sacrament for me, someone who mirrored the Love of God to me, someone whose life always touched me with that Love and filled my life with Love, so much so that despite the poverty of my early youth I can only remember happiness.

           

                                                                               1.

           

The first moment I can ever remember is an incident from my early youth, a defining moment with my dad that taught me what Christian Faith is, and what Faith was for him, the real experience of God the Father’s Love in union with Christ. It is an incident with my Dad that even now can move me to the point of joy, joy even to the point of tears.

            I was about seven years old when my dad and I had a race. He challenged me – if I thought I could run so fast, why shouldn’t I try to beat him? We ran around our block. We ran down Spruce Street, turned left on Park Street, and with another left on Well Street, we entered the final stretch.

            As I ran I would often look back at my dad, especially toward the end of the race. There was sheer delight in his face. He beamed with pride over me his son. He was letting me win, but knowing and seeing so clearly his love for me, I cannot begin to describe the joy welling up within my heart. I was loved by my father. I was the delight of my father. When I had won the race my dad picked me up and embraced me, and my joy in that moment could have conquered any cross, cost, crisis, or challenge.

            That incredible moment has taught me so much over the many, many years that have passed since then – even though as I recall the moment now, it is as if the race happened yesterday, and I truly relive not only my father’s love, but his all-important presence over the whole course of my life.

            Only now though do I realize that there was so much more to that love than I ever saw as a child. Only now do I realize that my dad’s love mirrored God’s love. Through my dad I always lived as a child in the loving embrace of God. He was the face of Jesus for me, and through my dad’s love the outstretched arms of a loving Father have always reached down to me and held me tight lest like St. Peter I sink in a sea of storms.

            It truly has been that way throughout my life. He was the face of Christ for me, and for all my family. Through his love my soul and spirit always found strength, hope, happiness and joy, because through his love God touched all of us with the healing and transforming power of His own Love.

            A night with my dad at the carnival proved that to me as much as that beautiful road race moment. That awesome night was also during those Spruce street years. My brother Paul was in Kindergarten at the time, and I was in the second grade. The carnival came to town, and it was literally no more than two blocks away. We could hear the music of the merry-go-round from our house, and every evening the lights from the rides lit up the sky over our neighborhood.

            I remember that Paul and I begged our dad to go to the carnival. Truth be told we were beside ourselves with excitement. Jumping up and down we pleaded with our parents for a night out at what was for us the “magic kingdom” set up right around the corner.

            But dad chose to be a “hard sell”. He told us that money was tight, and we really couldn’t afford a big night out for rides, roasted peanuts, popcorn, caramel apples and cotton candy. Looking back now I realize that he said all this with “smiling eyes”. But what does a seven year old know about “smiling eyes” or about the eyes being a window to the soul of someone who loved us.

            Still my dad finally relented in the face of our pleading, and off we went toward the lights and sounds of a child’s idea of heaven on earth. But we were told only one ride, and only one item to eat and drink – and there was to be no budging on that!

2.

            I remember that for my food item I got Cotton Candy, and I chose to eat it on the Carrousel. My Dad stood between my horse and my brother’s, making sure we were safe and strapped in tight as the horses galloped up and down and all around in a beautiful rhythm with the music of the Merry-Go-Round.

            I truly was in a “magic kingdom” that night. I hoped and prayed that the Cotton Candy would last forever and that my one and only ride would never end. Yet life is not like that – or is it? The ride did start to slow down and I braced myself for the end of more than just a good time. It was the end of enchantment, the end of a most magical moment in time. But not really…
            As the music stopped and the ride came to a halt, my Dad pulled a twenty dollar bill out of his pocket (That was a lot of money in 1955!) and told us that our night at the Carnival was far from over – it was in fact just beginning!
            In that great and wonderful moment I’ll never forget the Joy which swept over me. But more than that, I’ll never forget the smile, the happiness, and the love which shone forth from my father’s face. It was a love for me and my brother. Paul and I had everything to do with it. I just knew it and could never doubt it.
            To this day the Joy and Love radiating from my father’s face remains a most powerful image and mirror of God the Father’s Love for me. In that awesome sacramental moment with my Dad I could see and feel God’s Love reaching out to me.
            How do I know that? I know it because it was so empowering for me and all of my family. Certainly for me my dad’s love was at key moments in my life a communication of Grace. Time and time again his love touched me with the Power of Christ, the Power to persevere, to overcome fear, the power even to walk on water.
            As a twelve year old I remember especially how his bedside chats strengthened me and encouraged me to persevere in my dreadful little league career. I had gone “0 for 14” during my first four games. And night after night over the course of these first four games my dad would sit by my bed and talk to me. After our nightly prayer he told me over and over that I could rise to the challenge and that I must never, never quit.
            Even now his words during those night time chats have become a “voice” deep within me, a “voice” like the voice of Christ that tells Peter to come to Him, even though it will mean that Peter has to walk on water to do so; or, a “voice” like the Father’s voice in the classic poem called “The Race”:
                        “Get up!” my father said. “Get up and take your place;                                                                                  You were not meant for failure here.                                                                                                               Get up and win the race.
                        ‘With all your will get up!” my father said,                                                                                                      “You haven’t lost at all.                                                                                                                                   For winning is no more than this:                                                                                                               to rise each time you fall.”

3.

                        And when times seem dark and hard and difficult to face,                                                                              the memory of my father’s voice helps me in my race.
                        For all of life is like a race, with ups and downs and all.                                                                                 And all you have to do to win is rise each time you fall.
                        “Quit! Give up, you’re beaten!”                                                                                                                       The world still shouts in my face.                                                                                                                   But then I hear my father’s voice from deep within:                                                                                  “Get up and win the race!”
            And way back in my 12^th year, that was the “voice” that now echoed within me as I came up to the plate in my fifth little league game. His message to me then and always was that with God’s help I could rise to the challenge, overcome all fear, and if I never, never quit, one day I would put a ball beyond the wall.
            And in that fifth game that is exactly what I did.  I put a ball over the wall on a bounce – a ground rule double. As I rounded first, racing to second, all I remember is dad calling out from the stands for the whole world to hear: “That’s a boy, Dougie!”
            He did that after my high school graduation speech too. He stood up before a crown of easily a few thousand people at Central Catholic’s gym, and yelled those words again: “That a boy, Dougie!” Now looking back, I see so clearly how his love and presence even that graduation night empowered me to speak without fear before thousands, to walk on water if you will. Only now looking back do I realize how much his love and presence was a sacrament in my life, a source of Grace in my life, a source of the Life of God and the Power of Christ.
            When I see how fearlessly he could “shout out loud” his love for me and our family I stand in awe at how brave and courageous my dad truly was. Yet could we expect anything less from someone who stormed Omaha Beach on the shores of Normandy? Long before his children knew him he was someone who understand what courage was, and someone who embraced courage in the cause of his country and his God.
            As for courage in the cause of Christ, never have I known anyone who has witnessed more boldly for God than my dad. He not only pointed all of us toward Heaven, but by his word and example he showed us the Way, the Truth, and Life: Jesus!
            With that kind of spiritual direction and moral compass my dad guided me ever since my high school years. Again I remember a bedside chat at a crisis moment in my life. It was the summer before the start of college, and I was troubled about whether I should go on to college or become a priest. And could I please God if I didn’t become a priest.  
            It was the wisdom of my father once more that guided me, and as was so often the case his words, or if you will, his “voice” in that defining moment were like a Light in the darkness and turmoil of that time in my life. His words: “The only thing that matters in life is that you go to Heaven, and you do that by following Christ and living in the Spirit of His Love.”

4.

            His words were a word from God that night. How do I know that? I was healed that night of guilt, anxiety, and fear by words from my father. They were words that communicated Grace, Spirit, strength and peace to my troubled soul. But more than that, I could feel the love of Christ reaching out and embracing me through my father’s words and through my father’s love. My father mirrored to me not a God who wanted to terrify me and fill me with fear, but a God Who was my loving Father, a God who wanted me to draw close, sit by my bedside, and live in his loving embrace.
            Really, to his dying breath, my dad’s life and example bore powerful witness to how all-important his message to me and to all of us truly was: “The only thing that matters is that you go to Heaven, and do that by following Christ and living in the Spirit of His Love.”
            So now, as my sister said on the morning of May 28^th, my dad is gone – but not simply gone, rather “gone on”, gone on to Heaven. He has done what he told all of us it is most important to do with this life: “Go to Heaven!”
            For my dad, the holy man that he was, this life was a preparation for the Life to come, and death was the portal, the gateway to that Life. My dad would say with St. Francis that “…it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.” For my dad life is changed and transformed at death, not taken away. My dad has only left the womb of time, gone on from here to Eternity.

                So my father passed on to the Lord Jesus at 1:00 AM on Tuesday morning, the 28^th of May, 2013. If ever I have known a Saint, it was him. Jesus, Mary, Joseph, St. Michael and all the Saints welcomed my dad with Joy. Like Simba lifted up on Pride Rock in “Lion King”, the Father of us all lifted up my dad, now His new Risen Son transformed in Christ. God the Father lifted up my dad before the whole Heavenly Court.

            As He did so the Seraphim and Cherubim and all the hosts of Heaven rejoiced. Angelic choirs burst forth in song with the communion of Saints, singing Alleluia to the Lord, and shouting praise to God for the Grace of my father’s life, a life that so deeply and courageously honored Jesus His Son.