Inspirtation and Meaning in Celebrating a LIfe After Passing

Last night I attended a wake service for Mark Pacione.  St Pius X church on York Road just north of the city/county border just outside Baltimore City was packed to standing room only.  The line of people waiting to say something to Carol Pacione and her family was amazingly long before the service and went for an amazingly long time after the service.  The church was supposed to close at nine.  There were still dozens of cars in the parking lot well after nine when Sherry and I left the building.

I have not been to many Catholic wake services.  But this was amazing.  I won’t claim this is a play-by-play recounting.  By to help me continue to process the passing of someone who was only 60, I am going to reflect on the elements on the evening I found most moving.

First, the church’s worship band played some prelude music and throughout the program.  Their prelude music—when I believe it is appropriate to have as many solos as they might like and the music is intended for contemplation—was lovely.  I quickly noticed that the piano was being played by someone other than the typical piano player these days.  The typical piano player is a wonderful person whose piano playing is usually a nice accompaniment to what the guitars are doing.  The piano player last night is just at a different level and added some improvisations that brought the music to life in a different way.  There may be some who would debate just how much improvisation there should be and how much the piano or the guitar should lead, but my personal preference is for the type of piano/guitar mix I heard last night. 

Second, the fact that the church was full was amazing—because nearly everyone sang.  It sounded like everyone sang even if there may have been a few listeners in the crowd.  That, more than anything else, made the evening an incredible one.  The opening song was Come Holy Spirit.  For those who believe there is such a thing as the Holy Spirit, there was no question of the presence of the Spirit last night.  Before the song, during the song, after the song, the entire time.  This part of the experience reminded me of Matthew 18:20  “For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.” The gathering last night was much more than two.  And God was certainly in our midst last night.

Third, the singing.  There was a version of Amazing Grace in the program that the worship band has played dozens of times.  And it usually played in a way with at least some of the verses of the original Amazing Grace being sung by a soloist with the congregation then singing the modern added refrain.  While the song started with only one singer from the band, the congregation quickly joined in.  (Not everyone was from St. Pius X and used to the way it is usually done.)  To hear the entire congregation sing out the verses of Amazing Grace with strong voices almost brought me to tears.  I had a hard time holding it together to sing.  But that is what worship and praise music means to me.  Worshipping as a congregation.  Praising God as a congregation.  In this case, celebrating the life of a great man as a congregation. 

Fourth, Father Sam Lupico was on fire.  His homily was amazing.  So much near shouting—for joy!  So much emotion.  So strong a representation of what everyone hopes will carry on long after Mark’s life. Even before the homily, when he read the Gospel he talked about switching from what was listed in the program to a reading from Matthew.  When he began the reading with “When he saw the crowds he, he went up on a mountain…” I knew where this was going.  He had preceded the reading with a comment on how discussion with the family had led to this reading.  I knew what the reading would be.  The Sermon on the Mount with the Beatitudes.  The Beatitudes that are written on the eight stained glass windows around the church.  The Beatitudes that Fr. Sam focuses on in his homilies even in weeks when we are not reading from Matthew 5.  The Beatitudes that, to paraphrase Fr. Sam, if anyone believed and lived them it was Mark.  Fr. Sam’s homily last night was the closest I have ever experienced to a Catholic revival.  Everyone cried and laughed and shouted Amen and understood just what Mark believed and lived.  It reminded me of a meeting for this year’s youth who will be confirmed at St. Pius X.  Mark had shown a video that led in with “don’t get confirmed, BE confirmed.”  In other words, live your faith.  And Mark certainly did that.

Fifth, there were several speakers who had the opportunity to make comments about Mark after the singing of Amazing Grace.  One focused on how mark was present for everyone.  I try to be present for everyone.  I know I fail sometimes.  But it was clear that Mark was able to capture that feeling of just being there for you.  I have already commented on the presence of the gathering last night.  It was wonderful.  I try to live my life with presence for others.  Being present has a lot to do with being a symbol of God for others—going back to being confirmed rather than just getting confirmed.  That goes along with recognizing God in others and living a life of gratitude when you tell others what you appreciate.  That symbol is a part of my goal (3) for the coming year (I talked about this on December 31, 2014)—to say thank you even for little things.  I was able to put that to work immediately after we left the church last night.  We stopped at the grocery store and I chose to go to a cashier rather than going through the self-check line.  The young man took the time to carefully and thoughtfully bag everything to use the smallest number of plastic bags and not risk crushing anything.  The care that he took was notable and I made sure to say “Thanks.  Not everyone does that.”  And he seemed to appreciate that.  A reminder that there is the opportunity to be grateful to and present for everyone in our lives. 

Sixth, one gentleman who had worked with Mark for more than 30 years including when Mark helped to organize World Youth Day in Denver and then the Pope’s visit to Baltimore in the 1990’s.  This gentleman commented that Mark is probably already on the planning committee for the Jesus’s second coming.  That got a laugh from the entire congregation.  Mark was an organizer. And could inspire others to work with him for the faith.

Seventh, the other thing that many mentioned was Mark’s focus on family, friends, and faith.  I have already discussed faith, the Holy Spirit, the gathering, and the presence that was felt at the church.  But it was clear that Mark also loved his family and was appreciated by many friends.  And the line between who was just a friend and who was part of Mark’s family was a very blurry one.  Everyone there last night was clearly family in some sense of the word.

Eighth, while at the service and waiting in line after the service to give my condolences to his family, I saw so many families and so many youth and young adults whom I had known for the 18+ years we have been at St Pius X—or at least as long as they had been alive.  Some of them I had taught when they were 9 or 10 or 12.  Others I had simply watched.  The passing brought together families in some amazing ways.  And seeing kids whom I have known for so long is always a heart warming experience. 

Ninth, it allowed me to connect with some friends in faith I have not seen for quite some time.  So important at a time like this.

Finally, when Sherry and I reached Mae and then Carol and her family the length of the hugs exchanged when there was nothing to say but “I’m here.”  Mae said “Thank you for being here.”  All I could think of to say was “Of course.”  And when I reached his daughter, I actually had a story to share.  I recalled her running the Chicago marathon.  I recalled both her mom and her dad being worried.  And I recalled the day when she did it as one on which there was tension and a sense of relief and pride when she finished.  She talked about her dad joining her to finish.  I talked about sharing my running with two of my three boys.  She also mentioned not running now as she is expecting and we joked about the very pregnant woman who had run the Chicago marathon and given birth almost immediately afterward.  That joking was a light moment.  But more importantly, the primacy of family lives on in a new generation who were already and will continue to be inspired by Mark’s example. 

Mark’s niece restated something that had been noted in the eulogies—keep saying Mark’s name to keep his spirit and all he stood for alive.  I don’t think there will be any shortage of thoughts and discussions of Mark in the coming week or weeks or even months or years.  And everyone last night will be inspired to keep the vision that he provided for the life of the laity in the Catholic church alive. 

Leg-Tired

So, I last blogged early on Saturday morning.  Since then, I ran 6 miles on Saturday, 17 on Sunday, another 5 on Monday, a 7 mile progression on Tuesday, and an easy 4 today.  I find myself at 1195.2 miles on my question for 2000 miles and my virtual pilgrimage to Our Lady of Perpetual Help.  That puts me somewhere a bit west of Yates Center, KS, on US 54.  In Yates Center, KS, the church is St. Joseph.  Perhaps we was the first saint about whom we could say, "When life gives you lemons, make lemonade."  He accepted the plan that God had after Mary found out she was with child and he persevered.  What is most interesting about that is that on Sunday when my friend Joselyn and I were finished our run, we met up with the coach for a team we had met before but not introduced ourselves.  Several weeks back, this gentleman commented on how we had almost run from mile 2 back to the 0.5 mile mark of the Paper Mill parking lot faster than he had driven.  This time, we found out that he leads Team Persevere (http://www.teampersevere.org/Team_Persevere.html) which is a group that focuses on running and Hebrews 12:1.  And I am so glad to find others who are on a spiritual journey with running.  While I imagine that given the time at which I run, I may always be running back as members of the group are headed out, that I will see this group many times, and I have begun to engage with a couple of members.  It is, as I said, fascinating to find others who try to link running and spirituality in meaningful ways.

Speaking or spirituality, I attended my second Mission and Planning meeting at St. Pius X (where I began my virtual pilgrimage) last night.  Among other things, at each meeting, we review the Gospel reading from Sunday's mass and comment.  This Sunday was Matthew 13:24-43.  The short version was read last night.  I commented on a verse from the long version.  The verse (borrowed from usccb.org) is

He spoke to them another parable.
“The kingdom of heaven is like yeastthat a woman took and mixed with three measures of wheat flour until the whole batch was leavened.”

I commented on how the yeast leavens the entire dough--even though the yeast is only a small fraction of the amount of flour in a dough. It is pretty amazing to think that it is capable of making the dough rise where it is touching and where it is not. Thus, yeast affects the flour directly and indirectly. What we do as followers of Jesus can have both direct and indirect effects.

That leads to my title for today, "leg-tired".  My works affects some areas of my life directly and some areas of my life indirectly.  Yesterday, I was talking about a small modification I wanted to make to my Philadelphia Marathon training plan.  When the person with whom I was speaking asked why I wanted to make a change, I explained it in terms of how my work was affecting other parts of my life indirectly.  My boss has me focusing on quicker decisions, quicker implementation, and getting to win this year.  All of that is well and good.  And most of that would carry over to my running as well.  However, it can be exhausting--particularly when combined with the number of other family and community responsibilities I have or have taken on.  So, I told the person with whom I was speaking that I was not "leg-tired" (in other words I think my legs could have handled it if I asked them) but just wanted one morning on which I could feel that I was not rushing.  I also said that if I got the advice to stick it out, I would.  That is the when life give you lemons make lemonade appearing for me.  But I was able to make a small modification and it worked out well.

So, it is interesting to think of perseverance, connectivity, direct and indirect consequences of actions, and how that plays out in so many things beyond my spiritual and baking life.   

A Sunday Out and Back in Easter Season Makes Me Think Of...

Today, I ran an out and back--sort of.  I drove to meet one of my running friends who ran her first Boston Marathon this year whom I had not seen in person since she ran Boston.  We met at "the corner" (33rd and Greenmount) and ran the Old Baltimore 10 Miler course.  It is definitely an out and back type of course from the zoo to Lake Montebello, around the Lake, and back again.  In this case, we went to the zoo, the back to more or less where we started, then to Montebello, and then back to the start.  So it was actually out and back in two different directions.  And I really dislike out and back courses at this point.  But I am happier to do them when I am with the good company of a fellow runner.  And I am even happier to do them on a course that I have raced before (this one) or plan to race again this year (not this one--I decided I don't like the heat in June for racing that far).

In any case, when I think of running out and back during Easter season in the church, the reading from two weeks ago comes to me. That is the reading along the road to Emmaus.  I have written about Emmaus before.  It is an easy story to think of and one that can have lots of meanings. It is also something that was read at the last wedding I attended in Septmeber 2012.  And it was a wedding of two runners.  And it mentions 7 miles and teh two on the road to Emmaus running back to Jerusalem.  A distance of 7 miles.  A little longer than a half marathon.  A good bit longer than what I ran today.  But definitely something that I think of when I run any out and back.  What do I find when I get there?  How does what I find represent God's goodness and grace revealed to me?  And how much do I want to share it when I get back?

In my case, I am always big on sharing through my blog.  The key question is whether there was any evidence of God's goodness and grace today.  Of course there was.  The bright sun.  The reflection on Lake Montebello.  The good friendship that led to conversation most of the time.  The healthy pace.  The taking of hills.  The running of the lake clockwise--which I have never done before and seeing it all in a new way going to "wrong" direction.  I shared it with my running partner this morning.  I am sharing it with others now.  The out and back also brought us into interaction with other runners.  In fact, one of them was on the track with the large group last Wednesday when I ran.  And the first time I met him was about three years ago in the same season preparing for the Baltimore 10 Miler in 2011 when I was running the course to get a feel for it and he and another runner who were pacing the race were there at the same time.  Apparenetly some patterns never change.  And that is one part of the beauty of the life of a runner. The seasonality of so many things.  The return.  The ability to take a second look and see what may be different.  

And the story of Emmaus goes along somewhat with the theme that Father Sam talked about at 5:30 mass at St. Pius X today.  He focused on setting aside the earthly trappings of success.  White garments without gold.  His uneasiness with the stained glas window with our church's patron showing him with a mace (a sign of worldly power) rather than a cross.  Certainly, my friend this morning and I having both qualified for and run Boston have an eye toward earthly measures of running success.  But each of us also sees running as part of a larger framework of health and wellness and achievement and goal setting in our lives and in the lives of other runners around us.

He also talked about radical change.  While he did not talk about that with respect to Emmaus a few weeks back, it certainly was a radical and life changing experience for the two walkers-turned runners in the Bible.  And running has definitely brought about a radical transformation in my life.  (Friends, activities, blogging, self-image, story telling, etc.)  It is something that can bring about radical transformations for so many.  Some just see running as a chore to stay fit.  For me, it is part of the radical change that all began with running my first marathon and getting number 1313.  

Incidentally, with the 10.4 miles today, I ran 39 this week and am now at 803.9 two days short of 20 weeks into the year.  Thus, I am very much on pace to hit the half way to 2000 mile mark early.  My current position is on Pocahontas Rd in Highlands, IL, a bit north of I-70, and a near a stream that leads to the north end of the Old City Reservoir.   

We Sing Anyway

Today, I am not exactly sure how far I will run.  From my plans, it looks like 15, but it is just before 4 AM, so I can't say at the moment.

I don't usually write two blog entries a day.  But today I will as my running blog entry will come later.  

But today, I feel the need to lead off the day with a blog entry recognizing the importance of music at St. Pius X and the changes I have seen over the years.  Years during many of which John Weber was the directory of liturgy and music.  I had received an email from John as recently as January 8--twelve days ago.  Yesterday, we found out he has passed away Friday morning in an emergency room.  It is quite astounding that in this day and age of almost instant information it took two days for the parish community that he had served for so long and so well took two days to find out of his sudden and very unexpected passing.

How have my family and I been involved in music at St. Pius over the years?  

The earliest involvement was my oldest son singing in what was then the Children's Choir.  St. Pius X has not had a children's choir for quite some time now.  If there is one thing I would hope to see again some day that John did not facilitate (although I do not know if he tried) it would be that.  It seemed like a great way to encourage early involvement in this important ministry.

Other than that for about the first decade of our time at St. Pius X, we just sang at mass.  The mass we most typically attended had a piano with a group singing relatively recent songs.  It was called the contemporary choir.  And clearly it was a choir--led by Kevin Cronin.  Over the years it had numerous guitar players including a guy who would always hold his guitar vertically before the last verse or chorus of a song.  Kevin even played guitar briefly when there was another piano player available years ago.  There was some tambourine music occasionally.  A flute came and went.  And there was a bass guitar who actually helped me get my bass guitar playing started.

My involvement with 40 More Days over the years was rewarding.  Learned to play bass guitar.  Got interested in but never brought to church the mandolin.  Wrote a song for my middle son's first Eucharist that was also played for one other child that year and for my youngest son.  Enjoyed playing with my oldest son.  Sang off and on.

The "older" contemporary choir has continued.  For a while down to just a piano and singers.  Now back with a guitar and occasional flute.

And over the past several years John Weber played organ.  He could, of course, play piano.  With his operatic training he could play and cantor quite easily but supported other cantors.  He was involved in getting my son to play occasionally when neither of John nor Kevin Cronin was available to play for the cantor.  He also led a group that sang at some of the high holy masses.  

He supported a music community at the church that gave nearly every parishioner the opportunity to regularly attend a mass with music that they preferred.  With music that spoke to them.  With music that made sense to them.  

Music that makes sense to us as individuals and families was a great thing to have access to.  I have enjoyed the more contemporary Christian rock-like music.  And I still enjoy the other contemporary choir.  Sometimes the cantors and organ seemed slow, but they could be just as powerful at the right place and time.

In recent months, John had also taken over the job of getting information about altar servers out.  That affected my middle son who has served the parish well through this ministry.

Everything seemed fine.

And then yesterday, when my son was supposed to play an afternoon mass with a cantor, we found out that John Weber had passed.  He hadn't responded to my son's requests for music in advance.  And we found out the reason why.  

The details are apparently still foggy. 

But I have never seen my parish's pastoral life director so visibly shaken as when she addressed the parishioners who came to yesterday's evening mass.

I have never seen Kevin Cronin (who managed to bring himself to come to play piano yesterday at the 5:30 mass since he was fully prepared to play and my son was not) at less than 100% when playing and singing.  As mass went on he got stronger.  It was his third mass of the day.  He had subbed at the 8 AM mass when John was missing (John was supposed to play Saturday afternoon) but no one knew what had happened.  Kevin normally plays at 10:30.  And this was the third mass.  I remember that particularly at the start of the responsorial psalm, "Be glad in the Lord, give thanks to God's name/Be glad in the Lord, give thanks to God's holy name," the start of the playing seemed slightly paused.  Slightly off.  Slightly slower than usual.  By the end of mass he was his usual strong playing self.  But I think for at least one song, I detected a vulnerability.  Natural, but not often seen.

And this is the second passing of a young and well loved and well known parishioner.

What struck me yesterday were a few other things.  Our Pastoral Life Director commented not only on his musical skills but also on his laughter.  How she loved hearing him.  Being able to bring joy and laughter to others is a very undervalued skill.

Second, Fr. Sam referred to Catholics, particularly those who bothered to come to the 5:30 mass rather than staying home to watch football, a peculiar people.  He wondered what moved us.  He wondered what kept us focused on our faith when so many things pulled against that direction.  He told a story of a rabbi who, in the face of a very secular Jewish community, would yell "Shabbat" on the corner near Sundown every Friday.  Finally someone asked him why he was doing this.  He told the person, "So I don't go crazy like the rest of them."  Obviously, this was intended to make light of the fact that in secular society, those of us at mass during the time of a huge entertainment event were considered crazy.  But those of us at church at the time see ourselves as following where our hearts lead us.  Following where we need to go for nourishment.  To have our spiritual hungers fulfilled.  

Third, Fr. Sam made a comment saying, "We sing anyway."  He commented on singing anyway despite the passing of John Weber.  And at the start of mass, Carol Pacione (our pastoral life director) had asked us to raise our voices in song even stronger than we usually did.  I know I tried.  Not perfect. It was a day of emotion.  It was a day of sadness.  It was a day of songs that I did not completely recognize.  It was a day of microphone problems and the challenges of trying to follow Kevin Cronin in light of that.  But it was a day on which I raised my voice anyway.

Fr. Sam went on to comment about many deaths and how we sang anyway.  Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr, whose life is remembered in a holiday today.  Oscar Romero (whom he bring up often).  Other modern day church martyrs.  People die.  But we sing anyway.  We sing of being glad in the Lord.  We sing of giving thanks.  We sing of his holiness.

I believe that taking the Catholic doctrine literally brings an eternal sense of optimism.  Some may say that is just to control the masses when they get down.  I say it brings light to my heart in good times and in bad.  I say it opens up opportunities to experience the best in life even when others only see the downside.  I say it keeps my heart vigorous and young.  And while I did not know John that well as an individual, from what I do know he shared in the optimism and joy of living out our faith while he was alive.  And he enjoyed finding ways to open the way for others.

I believe that John is in God's presence.  I know some don't believe in God.  Or believe in other versions of God.  So be it.  But I believe that he lived out his faith in a way that will bring him to eternal joy in the kingdom of God with harmony and justice.   And I believe that those at the 5:30 mass will continue to sing anyway. Seeking joy.  Listening to Father Sam.  Enjoying whoever carries the music.  

And I thank Kevin Cronin for being there. Through everything at St Pius X over the 17 1/2 years my family has been a part of the community Kevin has been there.  Is he a perfect person?  No--but none of us are.  But he is a great musician and has been there to do what the parish needed whenever needed.  

May we all keep on singing.    

Conceptualizing 2000 Miles: A Virtual Running Pilgrimage

So, on January 2nd, I ran my first 8 miles of the calendar year.  I talked about that 8 mile run yesterday.  No need to review.

Today, I did not run.  I have many friends who braved the snow and ice on the roads to either drive to run inside on a treadmill somewhere or to run somewhere outside.  Congratulations to them after the snow last night.  I didn't feel inspired and had a bit of a headache.  That is not enough to keep me in bed when it is 40 degrees out.  But at 25 degrees (or less) and 4-5 inches of snow it was a "no go" for me.

What I did do today is think about how I will accumulate my 266 hours (or so) of running at 8 minute miles over 250 (or so) days during the remaining 363 days of the year.

And I spent some time thinking about what 2000 miles would actually mean.

And to link to spirituality, I found a route from St Pius X church in Towson MD (where we attend and participate) to a church called Our Lady of Perpetual Help in a town call Truth or Consequences, New Mexico, that is 2000 miles.  Here is a link to the pdf describing the path.  Going from one church to another makes it like a "virtual running pilgrimage."  Ending up at a town called "Truth or Consequences" for a goal that is so big and a quest for which I consider "truth" to be success and consequences to be the many possible ways of failing or being injured along the way, is pretty cool.

It is too bad I won't be doing this in reality as it will take me through Maryland, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Missouri, Kansas, Oklahoma, Texas, and into New Mexico.

So, each day, in addition to whatever else I want to blog about, I'll mention where I am.  The first eight miles that I ran yesterday takes me from our church to  somewhere on Greenspring Avenue north of the city.  It doesn't quite get me to the Church of the Resurrection in Lutherville that led to my early Christmas morning writing about connections from the perspectives of two priests (one Catholic and one Anglican) but it is interesting to me that in the bigger picture of trying to conceptualize my 2000 mile quest as a pilgrimage, even the first stop is near a church.

What will tomorrow bring?  12-16 miles on a treadmill at the Y on a bitter cold morning.  Once I see just how many I run, I will update and we will see where it leaves me on the trail.

Goal is set.  Now, to see where it takes me.  

The Spirituality of Advent, Day 3, Week 1

Looking back at yesterday's blog entry all I can say is that it showed how little faith I have sometimes.  Looking forward from yesterday, I can say that I, who was part of the ministry team, received what was probably some of the most powerful ministering yesterday.  Funny how that happens sometimes.  I hope others received something from my ministry as well--in fact, I'm sure some people did based on comments.  

The biggest thing that from yesterday's blog entry that was proven absolutely wrong was that I would be surrounded by people but somehow feeling alone.  I can assure you that did not happen.

Matthew 18:20 should have given me a clue in advance that I would not need to worry:

For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.

There were many gathered in God's name yesterday to honor Greg Smith.  To read about the man I was there to honor here is a link to the obituary.  I heard one friend in the worship band describe him as a "mover and a shaker."

The obituary, the number of people at church (a standing room only Catholic church), the stories told about him during the homily (Fr. Hank Hilton focused again and again on Greg's grateful heart), the stories told about him during the eulogy that his brother made it through without losing it all point to one thing--how much he was loved.

And seeing that, I cannot think of how anyone in the church, myself included, could have felt alone.

I received one hug that I needed.  I gave one hug that someone else needed.  And I felt the joy and power of the experiences that so many had had along the way of the life we were celebrating.  

No matter what has kept me from playing my bass with the worship band since Confirmation (lack of time due to the new job or otherwise), yesterday was a true blessing.  

A blessing that the group I played with still cares about me.

A blessing that after six months, I was weak in a few spots, but I had pretty much not lost my touch with the bass.

A blessing to hear of the love that so many felt for and from the man whose life we were celebrating.

A blessing to see how many people could come together to celebrate life, support the family, and support each other.

The thought that maybe this is what I teach my children about in Sunday school sometimes--if there ever was an example of how we can experience God's kingdom here on earth, the inside of St. Pius X yesterday between 10 and 11:30 was it.  A unity of purpose.  A serene experience.  Nothing but love.  

I wouldn't have been surprised if there was a halo of light around the church yesterday representing the glory and power of God for all the world to see.  

Hope was waning when I wrote yesterday morning.  I could talk about the hope of resurrection but I felt an emptiness of hope inside my heart.

Hope has been restored heading into the rest of the week and beyond.  I must remember Matthew 18:20 and recognize that that alone should give me hope when I am gathered with others to truly focus on God's gifts.

Hope is waiting for me to keep it close to my heart as long as I want to.  It is only when I let go that it ceases to be there.  

The Spirituality of Advent--Day 2, Week 1

Hope, choice, and a celebration of life.

None of these are small topics.

Today's message of hope will involve writing about a funeral, and some of the thoughts that it inspires.  I am sure that I will focus on this for some (or even much) of the rest of the week.

The funeral I will attend today will be for a gentleman from the parish of which I have been a member for the past 17 years.  He passed away at age 48.  He had four kids.  I don't believe the oldest is out of college, and I think that youngest is a middle schooler.  Married 23 years.  While this is not the person who has passed away to whom I have been closest (that was Gerry Paradiso back in 2010, whose passing started my personal blogging), this is the person to whom I am closest in age.  And he lived in a nearby neighborhood.  And he went to the same church.  And he did everything a person is supposed to do.  And yet, at an age just a little over four years older than me, he is no longer with his family.  I have to admit, that while I have achieved much in life and I trust that things could carry on without me and I am satisfied with my accomplishment, the loss is scary.

It is offset by hope--for resurrection.

The choice--this morning, with Sherry away on her "fall break" for the second of five nights, I chose to take the dog for an extra long walk rather than run.  This was my celebration of life.

How?

Well, most mornings, I consider my running to be a clear celebration of life.  My life.  Although there are at least some mornings (like Thursday, Friday, and Saturday over Thanksgiving weekend), when I have the opportunity to run with others and celebrate life in an even bigger way.  All of this through gifts from God.  But most mornings, especially during the week, it is about celebrating only my life.  And with Sherry having been away for two nights, leaving me to sleep alone (not even the cat or the dog come to sleep with me through the night at this point) and manage the kids alone, I didn't want to focus just on my own life this morning.

So, I chose to walk the dog.

Walking the dog is always a celebration of life.  Two beings enjoying each other's company for a period of time.  Maybe conversation or maybe not.  Even if there is conversation, it is one way--although the dog can react.  Maybe silence and just enjoying the outside.  But celebrating the chance to do what people and dogs are supposed to do--be social and be together.

I will be playing my bass at the funeral today.  Even though there will be hundreds of people at the funeral mass, and I will know many of them through the years at the parish, I really only knew the family tangentially.  So, while I will be surrounded by many people, I fear that I will be mostly alone in an important way during this celebration of the life of an exceptional parishioner and process of hoping for the joy and peace and serenity of the resurrection.

That is why I chose to celebrate life by walking with my dog rather than running alone.  This helps me to remember that I am constantly on a walk with God.  And that is the source of much hope.  

40 Days to Better: Day 21

Today is another non-running day as are most Sundays now.  That is fine.  A day of rest after a hard run and a therapeutic massage is not a bad thing.

As for today's lesson it will be brief, as there is a lot to do today.

Today's lesson at St. Pius X for third graders will include the completion of last week's lesson.  In last week's lesson we talked about how God speaks to people.  One example is the story of the road to Emmaus.  On that, God, as part of the Holy Trinity, was in the form of the risen Jesus.  

I have always loved the story.  

There are certain aspects of the story that I find particularly appealing--especially how the disciples eventually identify Jesus through the breaking of the bread.  Bread is a constant theme in my life, and if I ever get a second tattoo (and I am not sure that I will) bread will be an important feature.

In any case, this is the first wedding anniversary for two friends of mine who had a wonderful wedding ceremony last year on Saturday September 22.  

The gospel story of the Road to Emmaus was the gospel reading at their Catholic wedding.

It is a wonderful story but I never really thought of it as something for a wedding.  I had always presumed that the two disciples on the road were men.  My one friend pointed out that there are some interpretations suggesting it was a man and woman.  What a wonderful story then for thinking about recognizing Christ together as part of a couple's spiritual life.

This is just one example of looking for second meanings and then thinking of how a second interpretation can be translated into a new insight, a new meaning, a new lesson, and something new to help me act.

I am sure that lesson can be carried over to other parts of my life to help me on my road to better.

40 Days to Better: Day 14

Today is Sunday.  Historically held up by Christians as a day of rest.  And I have chosen to rest from running most Sunday's recently.  So, no run today.

I was awakened by animals clamoring for breakfast.  I'll have to walk the dog before leaving to teach Sunday school.

With teaching Sunday school, attending mass, grocery shopping, and some other things around the house, it won't be a complete day of rest by any means.  But it rarely is.

So, what is the lesson today for the road to better?  I'll take up something that Fr. Sam often mentions to parents in the pews at St . Pius X church where we attend.  He tells parents not to worry so much about the kids fussing some.  Without kids who are fussing in the pews now, we won't have older kids who can sit through mass, who then become teenagers who are actively involved, and adults who stay in the parish.  In other words, without children in the pews, we have no future.

Fr. Sam also talks about the "fire in the belly" in terms of excitement about what is going on at church.  Fr. Sam's frequent comments make me think of a recent gathering for catechists across the archdioceses that I was lucky enough to attend, Fr. James Martin talked about the lack of joy and humor in the Catholic church.

Why is that important?  Think of the best science or math teacher you ever had.  What did they do that made them the best?  They probably did something to make you see how exciting the subject was.  We could call that joy.

Father Martin mentioned how little excitement or joy we show in how we conduct mass as Catholics, how we attend mass as Catholics, and how we teach to our children.  Obviously, not every teacher or every parishioner or every priest lacks joy in the way they present what we do.  But many do.

So, as I enter this year, I will focus on bringing joy to my classroom.  First, my joy.  Maybe that will be contagious.

I know that when I talk about my running, I show joy.

When I tell the story behind my tattoo--which actually relates to my faith--I show joy.

When I talk about my marriage--I show joy.

Even when I talk about my job--most of the time--I show joy.

That joy is essential to my life.  I am an optimist. I am usually a happy optimist.  I get joy from a lot of things.

That joy, as we were reminded in a recent catechist preparation class at St Pius, is a fruit of the Holy Spirit.  A gift from God (as the Holy Spirit is part of the Holy Trinity.)  That joy is something that I am called on to share--through running, story-telling in general, work, and teaching about God, as well as any other positive pursuit I may have in life.  

As Excited about God as about Ray Lewis

Today, during the homily Fr. Sam said that St Pius X in Towson is a hard parish to preach to.  I think that he has said this before and I think I have even blogged about it at least briefly before.  He talked about being difficult because people don't respond.  He noted that another parish at which he says mass where they do respond and where they are surprised and ask if he is not well when he has a homily of less than one-half hour.  If he gave a half-hour homily at St. Pius X people would be very unhappy.

So, why is this something to write about?  Well, earlier in the day at home we had been discussing how long mass would be today and I talked about how people should be as excited about God as we are about Ray Lewis and the Ravens.  I think it is worth reflecting on two aspects of that comment.

First, excitement about Ray Lewis implies respect for Ray Lewis.  I wrote about Ray Lewis when he announced that he would retire at the end of the year.  After I wrote that and just before the first playoff game the Ravens were in this fall there was a piece in USA Today reminding readers of the murder case in which Ray Lewis was involved after the Raven's Super Bowl victory.  He only pled guilty to obstruction of justice.  The piece commented on how not everyone was glowing with respect for Ray Lewis.  Then, I had lunch with a former student who had lived in Atlanta when the Raven were in the Super Bowl and she was not a football fan.  So, all she knew of Ray Lewis was the situation with the murder.  He has redeemed himself amazingly since that time, and forgiveness is a good thing  But I always find it interesting to see what people are willing to forgive in others.  And people remain willing to get excited about Ray Lewis.  Many people at church today had Ray Lewis jerseys on.  Clearly, excitement for him is part of the excitement for the Ravens in general.  

Second, why are people not as excited about God and celebrating mass as they are about watching Ray Lewis?  If we really believe what we say we believe, then shouldn't we be excited.  Isn't the idea that God sent his son to die for the forgiveness of our sins incredible?  (Skeptics may say yes, incredibly in the sense of being not credible.)  Isn't Jesus blessing us with the Holy Spirit amazing?  (Something else that Fr. Sam commented on--many Catholics' disregard of the Holy Spirit in our day to day lives.)  Do we not get excited because we hear about it 52 weeks a year every year rather than just 16-20 times a year for 17 years in Ray Lewis's case?  And even if we claim to be excited in our hearts and minds, we certainly don't tend to vocalize and verbalize about our excitement about God in the same way we do about sports--Ray Lewis, the Ravens, or anything else.

Some may say it is all a matter of what is considered appropriate and context.  Great.  Maybe I can understand that argument.  But why has our culture evolved in the way that?  That is an interesting question to ponder.  And I'll be the first to admit that I don't vocalize in a crowd at church, I do spend time writing, thinking, pondering, and sharing for any who care to share with me.   Since I don't get all that excited about sports, maybe I could say that I do get as excited about religion as about sports.  Or perhaps that would still be giving myself more credit than I deserve.  Nevertheless, it is something for which I strive and try to find ways to make clear that I am as excited about my faith, my spirituality, and my belief in God as I am about any sport.  

First Day of Faith Formation at St. Pius X 2012-13

We have finally reached the first day of Faith Formation at St Pius X Catholic Church in Towson.  Back when I was a kid we called in CCD.  When I first began teaching it was called school of religion.  It has also been known as religious education.  I generically use Sunday school in conversation.  It gets grouped with faith formation because tonight is also the start of classes in preparation for confirmation for this year's 9th graders at St Pius.

In preparation for the first class, I have done a lot of thinking and some writing since last Sunday about Franciscan and Augustinian prayer.  There are two other types that correspond to the other combinations of intuitive/sensing and thinking/feeling in the Myers-Briggs personality types. Although it is interesting to note that the intuitive is grouped with thinking/feeling while the sensing is grouped with judging/perceiving.  In any case, one of the other types is Ignatian.  In that style, I get the sense that the idea is to put myself in the ancient text rather than trying to relate the Biblical words to life today (as is the most common idea that I perceive in Augustinian) or praying just out of experience of reality, particularly nature (as is the most common idea that I perceive in Franciscan).  Putting myself in the ancient text would be like trying to imagine the experience.  I suppose I did that best when I wrote a play for the religious education program to do at Christmas a number of years ago called "Who Makes Time for God?"  It still have a bit of an Augustinian element because the problem faced by one of the shepherds was having too many things on his "to do" list so that he didn't make it to see the baby Jesus as the other shepherds did at his birth and that is a very modern problem.  But I'd imagine that even the shepherds then had to think about their duties and their flocks and make a decision to listen to the angel.  My writing involved trying to imagine what the experience was like.

So, as I jotted down my notes for this morning, I found myself thinking about the many different types of prayer and the reality of creation.  With a lesson on creation, obviously the simplest prayer style to think about is Franciscan.  What do we see, what are we thankful for, and why?  As we look at the two stories of creation in Gen 1:1-2:3 and Gen 2:4-24, we find that there is some room for both Augustinian and Ignatian.  On the Ignatian side, I could have the students try to imagine what it would have been like if we read Gen 1 literally and Adam and Eve were told by God to fill the earth and subdue it.  Then, in an Augustinian twist, I can ask the kids what does that mean today-what is not only our dominion over the plants and animals but our responsibility for them as well.  Referring to Gen 2:2-24, I could, in an Ignatian way ask them to imagine being the only human (as Adam is described) and then the joy at having someone else around for the first time-then join that with an Augustinian approach to asking about how important other people are in their lives today.  Unlike Simon and Garfunkel, we are not rocks or islands.

In addition, I can also introduce the basic most basic concept of prayer.  No, I am not going to introduce my 8 and 9 year olds to the four types, but there is a nice definition in the book we will use that talks about talking and listening to God and goes one step further about lifting our hearts to Go.   We can discuss rote prayer (the Our Father is always a good starting place) and prayers for intercession to saints, and since I have been looking at things about St. Sebastian for my own life, I could share some of that with the children.  

Plus drawing a name tag for each kid's desk so that I learn names quickly.  With only 13 (so far) it should not be too hard to learn their names.

A lot to pack into the 45 minutes to an hour I'll have with them on day 1.  That is okay as I try not to dwell on any one thing for more than about 10 minutes.  That leads to thinking about a minimum of 4 or 5 discrete activities even in 45 minutes.

This year will be an interesting challenge.  I am really looking forward to working with the kids and continuing my spiritual growth through that work.