Month: June 2020

Two years ago, in the wee hours of the morning, mom’s birthday in heaven began.

About a week before, mom had been moved from the general population to the memory unit at Mala Strana because staff was worried that she might be a wandering risk. When I visited her the Sunday before she died, she began to have the onset of pneumonia again. She had recurring bouts with pneumonia the last two years of her life. Of course, she was very compliant about doing all the protocols needed to combat the infection when it occurred.

That Sunday, mom was a bit put off in temperament. It could be a part of living in a new room, or the pneumonia, but she was not in good humor. I remember us sitting in an area outside of her room and mom complaining about people and saying, “who says I can’t go into their rooms.” I asked her about what she was complaining. She pointed to the door immediately behind me. It was the fire exit door that had a sign saying “Open only in case of an emergency.” I told her it was the fire exit. I think she was a bit miffed and told me it was time to leave.

The next day, I was called by the nurses that mom had an simultaneous break of her left femur as she was being lifted off the toilet. I rushed over to the nursing home and the nurses had mom in bed seeing to her comfort. Looking at her left leg, it was obvious her femur was broken. Mom, always a bit anal compulsive, said she wanted to get up and straighten out some clutter in the corner of her room. But I assured that I would take care of it for her. When the hospice nurse arrived, the nurse and I quietly conversed outside of mom’s room. The nurse had been apprised of mom’s condition, and asked if I wanted mom taken to the hospital for x-rays. I said no, why put mom through unnecessary pain. I explained I had had a high left femur break and the x rays damn near killed me. It was clear to the visible eye that mom had a femur break. It was also clear that with advanced osteoporosis mom would never have a femur nailing and with onset of pneumonia would not survive surgery. Without being able to be up and moving, the pneumonia would only get worse and cause death. I had to make the decision to let mom die peacefully and in no pain.

So, began a five day vigil at the side of mom as she slowly, yet peacefully died. During those days, the staff of the nursing home came by to say their goodbyes. She was well loved by the nurses and nurses aides of the nursing homes, many of them crying as they said their goodbyes. Mom was comatose during this time. I continued to let her know how much I loved and cared for her. At 4 a.m. June 30th, we got called that mom had died. I had kept it together during the week, but upon Ruthie and I arriving at the hospital, I sat down by her side and wept.

During that week, I had written her obituary and planned her funeral, something in which I had become an expert at over 42 years of pastoral and liturgical ministry. I composed my homily for her funeral, and like I had for Mary Ruth, and Dad, I ministered at her funeral Mass.

My brother, Bill, was in Chicago and too ill to travel. When I spoke to him on the phone, he told me that he was not too sure how long he would live. Bill would die seven months later.

Mom’s funeral was on July 3rd. Many of those who knew mom in New Prague were away on their July 4th holidays, and since many of mom’s long time friends were either too sick, too elderly, or had died, the funeral was small. My Aunt Mary traveled from Pittsburgh to the funeral, God bless her! My father-in-law, Al, who had buried my mother-in-law Rosemary in January, was there with also some of Ruth’s siblings. Friends and parishioners were also there to celebrate mom’s life and mom’s life with God.

During that quiet time, following communion, I had a piano song prayer played in memory of mom. It was one I composed for mom as a birthday present back in the 1990’s. I offer it here in memory of this great woman, who loved me in life, and continues to love me and be present to me now that she experiences the fullness of life in the presence of God with my Dad, my sister, Mary Ruth, and my brother, Bill.

Mystagogy: On the Shore of Lake Tiberias

As a part of our mystagogy is a reexamination of our relationship with God during our suffering.

To help us in this reexamination is the post-resurrection story from John’s Gospel in which Jesus, on the shoreline of Lake Tiberias (Sea of Galilee) calls out to his disciples who fishing through the night proved to be furtive endeavor. Jesus asks them how the fishing went. They replied that it was miserable. He then instructs them to throw their nets on the other side of their boats. Immediately, the nets fill with fish. They knew it was Jesus who had called out to them and headed back to the shore. There, they found Jesus had prepared a fire on the shore, and they cooked and ate some of the fish they had just caught. Then, this beautiful story unfolds between Jesus and Simon Peter.

“¹⁵ When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs.” ¹⁶ A second time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Tend my sheep.” ¹⁷ He said to him the third time, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” Peter felt hurt because he said to him the third time, “Do you love me?” And he said to him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep.” (John 21:15-17, NRSV)

In this discourse between Jesus and Peter, Peter is confronted with the denials he made about Jesus in the throes of Jesus’ Passion. Jesus does not reprove Peter for his weakness in the face of great danger. Instead of berating and browbeating Peter for his unfaithfulness, Jesus gently asks Peter, “Do you love me?” Jesus does this three times. Peter, overwhelmed by his guilt, replies, “Yes!”. Jesus then impresses upon Peter the mission he would be receiving, namely, “Feed my lambs. Tend my sheep. Feed my sheep.” Jesus was passing on his ministry of love and compassion to Peter.

In our own feeling of being overwhelmed in the midst of our own Crucible, we will express verbally, interiorly, or in some other form, our own denial of God’s presence. As our suffering twists and contorts us, our perception of the real presence of God can be equally twisted and contorted so much so, that we are unable to detect God’s presence. To use the Gospel story of the storm at sea, we cling to the boat as the storm of suffering buffets our boat in such a way we feel we will perish and, like the disciples in the bottom of the boat, weakly implore God to save us. In our desperation, we begin to doubt the presence of God in our suffering, especially so when our suffering does not abate, and the storm of suffering only increases.

As we begin to recover from our suffering, and begin to think more clearly, we find revealed to us that God did not abandon us, but was steadfastly holding our hand during the worse of our suffering. It is then, we feel the guilt of doubting in the God who loves us so much. It is at this point that we slip inside the person of Peter and feel the guilt he felt on the shore of Lake Tiberias.

It is here that we can learn something about God’s mercy and love from the experience of those who have had Near Death experiences. For those who have had positive experiences (not all Near Death experiences are those who go into the light), they speak of encountering a “being of love”. At one point, those who have died re-experience the harm and suffering that they have caused others, from the point of view of those they have harmed. As they relive the agony their behavior has caused others, this “Being of Love” reassures them that they are loved by God and that nothing can change the love of God for them. When their souls are returned to their bodies, they live lives that are completely changed from who they were before the near death experience. It is the experience the agony their behavior had caused others that elicits this change. They have learned to live the Great Commandment of Jesus who said, “Love one another as I have loved you.” As one near death experiencer said, “I never want to go through that rerun of my life ever again.”

We are reminded by the story of Peter and Jesus on the shore of Lake Tiberias, and the stories of many near death experiencers, that in spite of our doubts and denials of God in the midst of our suffering, God’s love and mercy are constantly present to us. We are enveloped in God’s love and mercy every moment of our lives.

As you meditate on the music, reexamine those times in which you doubted the presence of God, or felt that God utterly abandoned you. In what ways have you, like Peter, experience God’s love and mercy for you? When Jesus asks you, “Do you love me?” how do you answer?

This week’s song from “A Paschal Journey”, I call “Mystagogy: With Magdalene In The Garden.”

Of all the post-resurrection stories, the one story I love the most is this story of Mary Magdalene looking for the dead body of Jesus.

“But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb; ¹² and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet. ¹³ They said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.” ¹⁴ When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus. ¹⁵Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?” Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” ¹⁶ Jesus said to her, “Mary!” She turned and said to him in Hebrew, “Rabbouni!” (which means Teacher). ¹⁷ Jesus said to her, “Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’” ¹⁸ Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord”; and she told them that he had said these things to her.” (John 20:11-18, NRSV)

I would like to use the musical form of this song to assist in the meditation of this music. The musical form is known as “Variations On A Theme”. In this form of music, a melody is stated. After the melody of theme is played once, it goes through a number of variations, changing the theme with the use of different chords, or a change of rhythm, a change of dynamics (soft/loud), a change of key area (minor key to major key), and so on.

Spiritually, after our resurrection from our Crucible, we begin reexamine the theme of our lives. We, at first, rejoice because we have survived an event of great suffering. Then, we begin the process of examining just how this suffering has changed us, has transformed us. That is why the title of the song includes the word “Mystagogy”. In the Catholic ritual, Rite of Christian Initiation, the last step of the ritual is Mystagogy, when one who has experienced the sacraments, reflects on how those sacraments have change his/her life. After our death and resurrection, the “theme” or essence of who we are has not changed, but many things about our lives, our themes, have changed.

Like the musical variations on a theme, we are now different that we were before the suffering. We discover those things about our lives that we can no longer do anymore, or choose to no longer do. We test the limitations that the suffering has placed on our lives. We, also, discover those gifts in our lives that have been enhanced. We find begin to live that paradox in which lives, perhaps now limited, have expanded in many ways beyond our hopes. As I have heard it from once sighted people who have lost the ability to see, their sense of hearing, touch, smell, taste become more enhanced, way beyond that which they experienced when they had the ability to see. Then, like Mary Magdalene, we begin the spiritual search as to how and where God was present to us in the midst of our suffering.

As you listen to this music, reflect on how the theme of your life has changed. In what way is your life now limited from the suffering? In what way has your life been enhanced or expanded? Has the direction of your life changed? How? What insights have you gained by your suffering and resurrection? Is that which you held high in importance changed? How? What now holds greatest importance in your life?

In this music, the beginning theme is stated as a rather melancholy hymn melody, like something you might hear on Good Friday. Then, that melody begins to get transformed, one moment a fugue, another moment, a fragment of rhythm from the theme gets focused upon, the harmonic rhythm (a fancy word for the progression of chords) starts to change. This transformation continues over a number of variations, similar to the way we reexamine our own life theme after suffering. If you remember in the story, when Jesus speaks her name, the demeanor of Mary Magdalene abruptly changes from grief to joy. So, in this song, listen to the moment in the music where the same abrupt change occurs. At the moment we discover, “hear our name spoken”, that the presence of God has remained with us, our lives turn from grieving to joy.

As many of you may know, In a Catholic News Agency article, the liturgical composer, David Haas, has been accused of sexual misconduct by numerous women. This has led to David Haas being dropped by his publisher G.I.A. Music, and the refusal of the Archdiocese of St Paul and Minneapolis issuing a letter of recommendation for David Haas. Marty Haugen, a highly respected liturgical composer in his own right, who has often performed concerts with Haas, and Michael Joncas, wrote an observation about these allegations against Haas. I suggest that you go to Marty’s Facebook page to read what he wrote. This is my response to both the allegations that have been raised against David Haas, and to what Marty write in his response.

How am I feeling about these allegations of sexual misconduct against David Haas? I feel disappointment, grief, anger, sadness, to name a few. Am I shocked? No. I have never really been in close proximity of David (never traveling in his musical circle), so I can’t really say about much about David’s personal behavior. From the nightmare of clergy criminal sexual abuse from which my parish has emerged (two of the parish’s three sites had 15+ cases of clergy sexual abuse dating back to 1940’s and 1950’s, I have witnessed the disastrous impact that the power over relationships that the two priests in question had over the lives of the children they sexually abused and how it destroyed the lives of those they abused. In the ministerial positions I have had over the past 42 years, I recognized I had a “power over” relationship with those I served. People looked to me for support and guidance. In so much that I was a  “director” of ministry, what I operated from was not a “power over” relationship but rather a “power with” relationship with my parishioners. When a sacred trust is violated with another person, great harm is done to the person. While these allegations have yet to be proved, the numerous allegations, and the fact that GIA Inc has dropped David, and the Archdiocese has refused to give David a recommendation (I am sure that the Archdiocese is treading very trepidatiously, especially after having been guilty of covering up the criminal sexual behavior of its clergy for close to a hundred years.), this does not bode well for David.

Why am I not shocked by the news? In my limited contact with David, I have observed that he has a great deal of charisma. David has a way of drawing people to himself. I observed this when Ruthie and I attended a National Pastoral Musician Conference in Davis, CA back in 1990. I had gone to hear the liturgical music composer, Tom Conry, speak. Both Marty Haugen and David Haas also spoke at the convention. This was during the heyday of what was known as the “St Paul Jesuits”, the music triumvirate of Michael Joncas, David Haas, and Marty Haugen. Tom Conry, who at the time resembled a very large and tall Mork from Ork, and Marty Haugen are very unassuming men. While very passionate about their music, and very skilled composers and musicians, they possess a humility about the gifts they have been given by God. I remember having lunch with Marty at the convention (Ruthie was busy soaking up the California sun and very adamant about not doing anything at the convention), and having a good heart to heart conversation with Marty about liturgical music in the parish setting. Marty said to me at that time that while he initially thought recording music in the studio was the best of musical experiences, he found that it was the playing of music with other liturgical musicians that was the greatest joy he experienced. I told him that the greatest high for me was when music and assembly connected in such a way that the liturgy was a seamless prayer filled experience.

Here I was sitting having a wonderful lunch with one of the greatest liturgical music composers of the time, who was very unassuming and down to earth. However, I observed that wherever David Haas went, he was surrounded by a mob of admiring fans, the majority of whom were women. David had certainly achieved “celebrity status” such as it is in Catholic liturgical music circles. I wondered if it would go to his head. This is why I am not entirely surprised at the news of allegations against David. David is a very gifted musician and composer, is very charismatic, and could easily have done that for which he has been accused.

The question that Marty raises in his response is should these allegations prove true, should the body of liturgical music that David Haas has composed be eliminated from public worship? Should such standard and powerful hymn such as “We Have Been Told” and “Blessed Are They” be eliminated from the canon of liturgical hymns? This is where Marty’s wisdom is important. The texts of these hymns come from sacred scripture. David may have fashioned sacred scripture into hymn text, but the words did not originate from David. The hymns, in spite of the behavior of the composer, still powerfully speak the Word of God. Chances are that the normal person in the assembly cannot name the composer of their favorite hymns, they just know that the hymn speaks powerfully to them. The hymn takes on a life beyond that of the composer who fashioned the melody and in the end belongs to the assembly.

This is why I have a great fondness for the hymns of Marty Haugen and Tom Conry. I don’t like the hymns they have composed because of the person who composed the hymn, I like the hymns they have composed because of the power of God expressed in the melodies and in the sacred text upon which the hymn is based. Listen to the text and melody of my favorite Haugen hymn “Eye Has Not Seen” or “Gather Us In”. Listen to the powerful text of Conry’s “I Will Not Die” or “I Will Lift Up My Eyes”. There is something other worldly in these hymns that goes beyond the text and melody (or in the case of some of Conry’s hymns, lack of melody). When I was a director of music and liturgy, I always sought music that would express the message of the scripture that was in the liturgy of the day. It mattered not whether it was a through composed hymn like “Holy, Holy, Holy” or “We Have Been Told”. It was my wish that the music I selected would build upon what the scriptures expressed and the message that was preached, hopefully making the liturgy a seamless expression of praise and prayer to God.

What will happen to David Haas? I don’t know. If there is truth to the allegations against him, then he must be held accountable for his actions. What will happen to the hymns he has composed? I hope they remain a powerful part of the musical canon of the Church. As Marty so well expresses in his hymn (and my favorite hymn of Mary’s “Eye Has Not Seen”), “We sing a mystery from the past in halls which saints have trod. Yet ever new the music rings to Jesus living Song of God.”

We come to the eighth step of our Paschal Journey, the Resurrection. I have often wondered what it was like for Jesus to awaken in his body, to re-inhabit the body that carried him on this earth for 33 years. To breathe oxygen once more into his lungs, to feel the rush of blood through his veins, to taste, to smell, to feel, to hear, I wonder what it was like for him to experience this once more.

After the tremendous suffering of our Crucible, there comes that moment when we realize that the suffering as horrible as it may have been was not the end of us. The respite for which we longed, the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel, has finally arrived for us. When we begin to realize that life does continue, we begin, metaphorically, to arise from our grave. And, in so doing, discover that the Crucible has changed us. We are not the person we were prior to the Crucible. The suffering has altered us. It has altered our life, our understanding of the world in which we live. We begin to discover that which has true value. That which has true value is simplified. That which we value is not that which use to clutter up our lives. We find that above all, it is the relationship we have with those significant in our lives that holds true value. And, if we look deep enough, we discover in those relationships our relationship with God. As Martin Buber expresses so clearly in his book “I And Thou”, our relationships with others are windows upon which we look upon the face of the Divine Thou, God.

In the resurrections which have occurred in my life following suffering, I find myself rejoicing in the new life that has been given to me. And, in my rejoicing, I often wonder the unknown that lays ahead of me clothed, as always, in mystery.

Here is the music that accompanies this 8th step. As you listen to the music, meditate on the experience of the resurrection that followed your suffering. How did it feel to “rise from the dead?” What insight had you gained from both your dying and your rising? In what way did you change from who you once were? In what ways has your values changed?

Today would have been Mary Ruth’s 65th birthday. Over the years, I have written much about my sister. On this day, she died from complications due to Crohn’s disease. In her brief 42 years, she lived life as fully as she could given the limitations that her disease placed on her. She traveled all over the world. She assisted many a cardiac patient as an occupation therapist. I have been thinking over these past three years that perhaps her death in 1997 spared her from the horrible state into which this nation has sunk. Given the state of her health, she would not have lived long in this world infected by Covid-19.

The song that I post is one I composed for her on her birthday several years before she died. The handwritten music was four pages long. When I sought to find the song later to transcribe it digitally, I found pages 1,3 and 4, but not the second page. I was crestfallen. However, in the same tote in which I stored much of my handwritten music, I found a cassette tape with the song on it. In listening to the cassette recording, I was able to reconstruct the missing page of music.

My dear sister, Mary. I know that you have long fulfilled in your life the peace for which we all seek. Dear sister, Aunt Dee to my children, continue to pray for me, for our family, and for our nation. Till that time, Mary, until I meet you again in person, you remain in my memory and in my prayers.

Today, 71 years ago, my mom and dad were married at St. Rosalia’s Church in Pittsburgh, PA. My maternal grandmother died when my mom was 12 years old and my maternal grandfather had died several years before my mom got married. So my dad had to pass the muster with the parish pastor, Fr Coglin, who was just not going to let any Tom, Dick, or Harry marry my mom, Regina, or “Queenie” as she was affectionally known. Dad pass the test and mom and dad were married early in the morning on June 11th (because of a 12 hour fast before receiving holy communion at that time, most wedding Masses were early in the morning … it was not good form to faint from hunger during your wedding).

Their life together would lead them from Pittsburgh to Chicago, to St Paul, MN, back to Chicago and finally back to St. Paul. Along the way, my brother, Bill, myself, and my sister, Mary Ruth, were born. Like all married couples, they had their challenges in life, but their love for one another and their faith in God helped them through all the challenges they faced. The love and compassion they had for each other formed how I approached the relationships in my life. What I learned and experienced in my father’s love and devotion to my mother, I have brought into my relationship with the love of my life, Ruthie. I have so much for which to be thankful on this great day in their life, and subsequently, this great day in my own life.

Many years ago, I composed a setting of a psalm as a present for them. In 2018, shortly after my the death of my mother, I recomposed that psalm setting just for piano. As a musical prayer of thanksgiving for their lives, I present here, again, as a sign of my love and devotion to two people who loved and shaped my life so marvelously.

“In The Crucible” This song is based on Psalm 22. Most of us are as familiar with this psalm as we are with Psalm 23 (The Lord is my Shepherd) that follows it. Psalm 22, in Catholic liturgies, is the Responsorial Psalm in the Good Friday liturgy. It begins: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning? O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer; and by night, but find no rest. (Psalm 22:1-2, NRSV)

In the Passion accounts of Mark and Matthew, Jesus’ last words are “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me.”

When we are in the Crucible, we experience great suffering in our lives. It appears that God has abandoned us. Consumed by our suffering we look for a respite from the suffering, yet respite is denied us. Instead of being lifted from the suffering, we sink deeper into the suffering. Great suffering brings on disorientation. We lose all sense of time, so consumed we are by what we are experiencing. We lose our objectivity, and are unable to look at the bigger picture, so focused are we on our suffering. All we seek is to end the suffering, to make it stop. And so, we can find ourselves making all sorts of bargains with God. We promise anything and everything, the possible and impossible to try to persuade or try to coerce God to act in our favor. But it is all to no avail.

We may think that there is something that we have done that has been the cause of our suffering. It is like the case of the man born blind in John’s Gospel. It was assumed theologically, that this man was born blind because of some sin that his ancestors committed. Their past sins heaped the curse of blindness upon this man when he was a fetus in his mother’s womb. Jesus in curing the man of his blindness proves that this theology was nonsense, and in curing the blind man revealed the blindness of those who taught such nonsense.

No, our suffering is largely not a punishment for a past sin. Many good and faithful people undergo great suffering, while many people who do horrific and abominable actions seemingly have little suffering in their lives. Suffering, like so many other events in our lives, is encased in mystery. We don’t know why it is we are suffering, all we know is that we are in the midst of agonizing suffering.

When I was told that my artificial hip had to be taken out because of the MRSA infection, I reached an emotional low I had never before experienced. I had been told that by my primary physician that I was very allergic to the normal antibiotic that kills MRSA, prior to going to the hospital to have my hip removed. The infectious disease doctor explained to me that I would be receiving that antibiotic in great quantities prior to having the surgery the next day. I objected stating that I was allergic to the antibiotic. The infectious disease doctor told me that my primary doctor was a hayseed who didn’t know a damn thing, and ordered the antibiotic.

The minute that the antibiotic was given me, it felt like a thousand needles were penetrating my flesh. I immediately began to oscillate between extreme chills and overpowering heat. I grew disorientated and lost all sense of time. I sank into a living, twisted nightmare. At midnight when the nurse was going to give me another dose, I refused it stating that I was suffering because of it. I finally sank into a troubling sleep, and was awakened at 5 in the morning to be prepared for the surgery. The nurses grew alarmed because my blood pressure was 60/40 and I was in renal failure (something that happens as a result to Vankamycin). I was rushed into ICU where I was hooked up to all sorts of tubes as the team sought to get my kidneys functioning. Needless to say, had I had the surgery that day, I would have died on the surgical table. My surgeon promptly fired the infectious disease doctor and began to consult someone more trustworthy.

While that experience was horrific, it was just the beginning of the suffering that was awaiting me. On my birthday, my left artificial hip was removed. I would be without a left hip for another 5 ½ months, as the infection would come back, and I would have more surgery to clear the infection. Finally, the infectious disease doctor found a combination of antibiotics that would kill the infection but not kill me. I went from August through the middle of January without a hip. There was more than one time I would utter the words found in this psalm, and repeated by Jesus as he died on the cross.

In our crucible, in whatever form it may come to us, we need to remember that the road to the resurrection always lies through great suffering. As grim as Psalm 22 is through the majority of its narrative, it is important to read the psalm to its end, in which the one who is suffering becomes victorious. “I will tell of your name to my brothers and sisters; in the midst of the congregation I will praise you: ²³ You who fear the Lord, praise him! All you off spring of Jacob, glorify him; stand in awe of him, all you off spring of Israel! ²⁴ For he did not despise or abhor the affliction of the afflicted; he did not hide his face from me,b but heard when Ic cried to him. ²⁵ From you comes my praise in the great congregation; my vows I will pay before those who fear him. ²⁶ The poor shall eat and be satisfied; those who seek him shall praise the Lord. May your hearts live forever! (Psalm 22:22-26, NRSV)

Rabbi Harrold Kushner observes in his book “The Lord Is My Shepherd: Healing Wisdom Of The Twenty-third Psalm”, God never promises that there will be no suffering in our lives. What God promises is that when we “walk through the Valley of Death”, God walks with us guiding us and supporting us.

When we are in the midst of our crucible and all seems lost, we can be assured that we are not alone in our suffering, for God is holding our hand and sustaining us in the midst of our suffering. We do not have to feel guilty about asking the question, “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?” We are not alone in the asking of this question. In the midst of his own suffering, Jesus also cried out that same question. He was not punished in asking it. Rather, he was raised from the dead, and, so, we shall also be resurrected.

As you listen to this prayer-song, “In The Crucible”, meditate on the times of great suffering in your life. Where was God for you in the midst of your suffering? In what way or through whom did God reach out to sustain you in your suffering?

The Trinity is one of the most difficult subjects upon which to preach. It is as if the human mind just cannot make sense of it. Two years ago, I wrote the bulletin article, below, for the Church of St Wenceslaus. Fr George Grafsky was filling in at Mass that Sunday at St Wenceslaus, while I was assisting at Masses in two rural parishes. It was a very hot and humid weekend and Fr George was not going to keep the folks any longer than needed (St Wenceslaus Church has not air conditioning and, like most churches in Minnesota, was built for the season of winter, not summer.). Ruthie was at one of the Masses at St Wenceslaus that weekend. For his homily, Fr. George just told the folks to read my bulletin article for that weekend, stating it was an excellent homily on the Trinity. That was quite an affirmation for me, when I heard about it later. Here is that homily:

“Trinity Sunday, a day when many homilies border on heresy. We know more about the atmosphere on a faraway planet, like Mars or Jupiter, than that which we know about the Trinitarian nature of God.

“In my grad school days at the St Paul Seminary, I had a number of classes taught by theologians. When they would speak, it was as if their minds were able to draw knowledge from spiritual dimensions in otherworldly planes of existence not generally accessible to most of us day to day people. I would ask them a question, and there would be a pause as they searched these other dimensions of knowledge before answering. I remember attempting to read the great Catholic theologian, Fr Karl Rahner’s definition on the “Economic Trinity.” Rahner was a German theologian and he wrote in the German language. It is true that what is expressed in one language is not always directly translatable in another. Case in point, what Rahner wrote in German about the Economic Trinity was very difficult to understand in English. I attempted many times to understand his definition of the Economic Trinity (Note: the Economic Trinity is not a Walmart special, 3 natures of God for the price of one) but to no avail.

“So here is my, hopefully, non-heretical, non-understanding of the Trinitarian nature of God. In the Hebrew Testament, we hear about a one, powerful God who breathes upon the waters of the abyss and life was created. The Hebrew Testament writers call the breath of God, Ruah, that is, the Spirit of God. God’s voice speaks to and through the prophets to the people of Israel. The writers of the Hebrew Testament call God’s voice, the Logos or God’s Word. In the first chapter of John’s Gospel, the Word of God is identified as Jesus, God incarnate. Just as in our human body, our breath and our voice are inseparable and one with our body, so the Holy Spirit, the breath of God, and Jesus, the Word of God, are in separable and one in God. The bottom line is this. Jesus taught that God is a Trinity, one God and three natures: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. If that is good enough for Jesus, it is good enough for us.”

Mom died on June 30th, 2018 at the age of 97 years. She would be 99 years old today. It is a bittersweet anniversary for me. It is remarkable as to how many lives she touched over the years. Gracious, well-mannered (as kids we didn’t have the “Golden Books” for stories that other kids had, we had books on manners and how to eat at the dinner table), intelligent, loving, and a wee bit anal compulsive (she has the cleanest dirt on the block), she was the perfect companion for my dad.

As my hair has been growing longer over these Covid-19 days, I was fondly remembering the time when I was in college, when I started wearing denim shirts, blue jeans, boots, grew a moustache, and grew my hair longer that she accused me of being a hippie. I told her there was a little more to being a hippie than wearing boots, denim shirts, blue jeans, growing a mustache, and growing my hair longer. I, of course, didn’t tell her I was smoking pot every now and again (I am a musician after all, and I had to maintain the tradition of many American musicians including Louie Armstrong, Gene Krupa, and other musicians). She thought I cleaned up considerably after I married Ruthie, and started my career as an educator.

Day after day, I see within myself the great influence that she and Dad had on me in my life (even if I inherited the recessive Swedish genes that have attacked my joints … according to my Irish Aunt Mary). I am forever thankful to this wonderful woman and celebrate this anniversary of her birth with great joy.

Below is one of my first piano compositions that I gave to my mom on her birthday in 1972. Happy birthday, Mom!