Did You Come Expecting Anything?

Why did you come to this blog today? What kinds of emotions swirled through your mind as you connected to this site, scrolled through your bookmarks, slid into this file? Did you have any particular expectations for this reflection or did you come here looking for some special image that might brighten your day? Maybe you came here out of habit, perhaps a habit fueled by a genuine faith. Or maybe you had to drag yourself here. Maybe you felt inwardly crabby as you pulled yourself out of bed and logged on to find the weather and mistakenly clicked onto this blog. You didn't get near enough sleep last night, and the kids drive you clean up a wall as you try your best to get them dressed and out the door on time for school. Maybe you came here feeling sad, maybe joyful. Maybe you came bearing a lot of guilt on the inside, maybe you came here hanging on to lots of fear if its OK to come to pray here, or maybe without having given much thought one way or the other as to what shape your life has been in lately.

But did you come expecting anything? C.S. Lewis once penned some thoughts on worship, he was uncomfortable with the notion that every worship service needed to be a kind of variety show. Worship or praying, Lewis wrote, should be a bit like dancing. Once you have learned how to dance and have become good at it, you are able to immerse yourself in the dance and just do it almost without thinking about it. But if you must constantly look down at your feet, if you have to think about each movement before you actually make it, then you can't dance yet but are just learning how to dance.

I like to believe that coming to this blog is like a dance that you are so good at you can just do it freely and flowingly, but we dare never forget who our dance partner is! Anyway we chose to pray, whether in our church, or on our knees at night, with a rosary or bible in our hand or seated at our computer reflecting on this Sonshine, Jesus is here and it makes all the difference for the rest of our day.

We believe that we meet Jesus here every time we click to this blog. Whether at font and table, in prayer, music, and the Word, we believe we are getting caught up in the dance of life and hope and joy and what's more, we are dancing with no less than the Lord of Life.

Immanuel prays for us as we reflect; “Then young women will dance and be glad, young man and old as well. I will turn their mourning into gladness; I will give them comfort and joy instead of sorrow.” (Jeremiah 31:12-14).

Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends who love to dance and look to you as our partner who leads us to safety and joy. May we hop and skip like kids again and feel the happiness in our hearts that we are in the hands of wonderful God who has chosen us to be his beloved for all eternity.

I Love You

An adult education teacher once gave his class an assignment to go to someone they love before the following week's class and tell them that they loved them. They would then give their report at the next class. It had to be someone to whom they had never said those words before, or at least not for a very long time.

At the next class, one man stood up and recounted his story to the class. "I was quite angry with the teacher last week when you gave us this assignment. I felt that who were you to tell us to do something so personal? But as I was driving home, my conscience started talking to me. It was telling me that I knew exactly who I needed to say 'I love you' to. Five years ago, my father and I had a terrible argument that we have never resolved. We have avoided seeing each other unless it was absolutely necessary and even then we hardly spoke to each other. So last week by the time I had gotten home after class, I had convinced myself to tell my father that I loved him.

It's strange, but just making the decision seemed to lift a heavy load off my chest. When I told my wife, she jumped out of bed, gave me a big hug and for the first time in our married life saw me cry.

The next day I was up bright and early as if I had slept soundly all night. At 9am, I called my father to tell him I wanted to come over after work and talk to him. He reluctantly agreed. By 5:30, I was at the house. When my father answered the door, I didn't waste any time. I took one step inside and blurted out 'Dad, I just came over to tell you that I love you.'

Well, it was as if a transformation had come over him. Before my eyes, his face softened, the wrinkles seemed to disappear and he too began to cry. He reached out and hugged me, saying 'I love you too, son, but I've never been able to say it.' I didn't stay long, but I hadn't felt that great in a long time.

Two days after my visit, my dad, who had had heart problems but hadn't told us, had an attack and ended up unconscious in the hospital. I still don't know if he'll make it. So my message to all of you in this class is: don't wait to do the things you know need to be done. If I had waited, I may never have another chance to do what I did."

We all need to tell the people that we love how much we love them. We always presume that they know. But maybe they don't, and besides it wouldn't kill us to say so.

Immanuel prays for us as we reflect; “But with you there is forgiveness, so that we can, with reverence, serve you.” (Psalm 130:3-5).

Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends and let me personally say "I Love You" for all your years of wonderful support. May you find these words of affirmation a sign that God is well pleased with your life that reflects a divine love for all creatures great and small.

I Squealed on Myself

A good friend shared that she volunteers at her church cleaning the altar and she was feeling terrible about lots of things in her life. Then one of her fellow workers asked her to do something and she started to scream back at her friend. She admits that whatever her friend wanted set her over the top and she just lost it. She has no idea what she was complaining about, but she felt embarrassed and walked over to the confessional to “squeal on herself.” Obviously, it must have been 4 o’clock in the afternoon if father was open for business.

On her knees, she told the priest her sins, but she started sobbing in the confessional. The kind man listened through her tears, but she felt burned out from all the stress in the past few months and the healing came as quickly as the squealing. Father gave her penance of three Hail Mary’s and she left relieved but went up to her fellow volunteers to say that she was sorry.

You have to admit we go through so many stresses that there are moments we feel like screaming at the top of our lungs. It actually can be quite relieving, but screaming while cleaning a pew was quite a shock for her cleaning buddies.

Once again, it was moment to trust that God can help us surrender our tension and give us the hope that the brokenness we experience can be mended with a kind word. Her cleaning buddies told her to go home and get some rest and don’t worry about cleaning the linens. They would gladly pick up the load while she went home to take a nap. Better yet, she had the kind of friends who do not hold a grudge and gossip behind her back. She was having a bad day and they promised to pray for her that all her troubles would be resolved and she back helping again.

Lord, only knows that our shouts and screams are a cry for help when life gives us more than we can handle. The compassion comes from our friends who offer a hug and reassuring words to take a break and they promise to check on us to make sure that we are felling better.

Thank you Lord for such wonderful friends who don’t take us seriously but allow us to vent and holler and give us the grace and courage to persevere through the miserable days.

Immanuel prays for us as we reflect; “I love the Lord, for he heard my voice; he heard my cry for help.” (Psalm 116:1).

Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends who squeal on themselves in humility for we know that we are not always at our best. Thank you for friends who accept us when we are a terror and take us into their arms with no questions asked. What a surprise and wonderful grace to be loved by a God who hears the cries of his people.

We Are Star Stuff

I'd like to begin this Epiphany Sonshine reflection by describing one of the most beautiful sights a person can see. For this photographer, it involves getting up very early in the morning - before dawn, when there are still stars visible in the sky. The sun has not yet risen, but you can see its light on the eastern horizon. Little by little the stars begin to disappear. Soon there is only one left and it is not a star. It is the planet Venus. Finally the light of the sun overcomes Venus, the Morning Star.

Something like this happened to the Magi when thy came come from the east because they had seen a "star." We don't know exactly what the star refers to. The Chicago Planetarium once had an exhibit titled "The Star of Bethlehem." They reconstructed the heavens around the time of Jesus' birth and speculated that the star may have referred to a comet, some configuration of planets or perhaps the Morning Star itself. Whatever it was, the star led to Jesus. But when the Magi found Jesus, things changed. Jesus was like the sun rising at dawn. The Wise Men no longer needed stars and planets. They now had the bright, life-giving sun.

The poet Lope de Vega wrote a beautiful poem about this. Its title is: “The arrival of the Magi Kings.” Lope de Vega describes how the star guided them in the dark night, but when they found Jesus, the stars faded. Here is a translation of Lope de Vega's poem into English:

You Kings, who come from the East,
are searching the night sky
looking at the their beautiful lights.

Do not follow them now
for where the sun is
the stars have no light.

The Child shines upon you.
And where the sun is
the stars have no light.

Lope de Vega is thinking about the practice of astrology. It was something that attracted him, but he realized that if he was going to follow Christ, he would have to give up astrology. A famous astronomer named Carl Sagan said, "We are star stuff." That is a poetic phrase and it is true as far as it goes. The matter that forms us was ultimately forged in the furnace of stars. But, unfortunately, Sagan meant it in an absolute sense: We are only star stuff. However, I like the phrase “We are star stuff.”

As Christians, we admit that we are material beings, but we believe that we are something more. When we encounter Christ, his light overwhelms even the stars.

Sometimes darkness enters our lives and we find ourselves lost and confused. In those moments, keep in mind that are “star stuff” filled with light of the divine. The best part of the wondrous Magi story comes at the end: they left us a promise. For at last they found what they were looking for. And so will we.

Immanuel watches over us as we reflect: “While the morning stars sang together and all the angels shouted for joy?” (Job 38:7).

Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends who look to the morning star to guide us each day to be a true sign of God’s love here on earth.

Rainbow on New Year's Day

I am driving to get gas for the tractor before the snowstorm when the cell phone rings to inform me to look north. Over my left shoulder is the most perfect rainbow that frames all the plowed fields in the most stunning image you can imagine. I say imagine because my camera was in the closet at home and not at my side.

Sometimes that’s where we tend to put God. In the closet and not at our side. We drive along life with all our fears and hurts. We wonder if we are doing the right things in life. Are we caring for our loved ones enough? Am I working at the right job? Do I take good care of ourselves or do we neglect to exercise and eat the healthy greens.

Over time, the hurts begin to accumulate that we no longer are ourselves. Instead of kindness and patience, we find ourselves irritable and full of venom. We are no longer pleasant to ourselves because we have experienced so much rejection. Jesus farewell gift to his disciples and ourselves was a “shalom.” This is not a peace that eliminates frustrations or disappointments. Rather imagine a quiet peace that reminds us that we a never alone in our tears and God is at our side to guide us with his wisdom and courage.

Rainbows were a sign from heaven that we are never alone and that we are never in control of our destiny. Rather, we are on a path guided by a wonderful God who has sent his Son into the world to show us how to live a life filled with grace and wonder. Let this rainbow experience help us to meditate and relax that we are in the hands of a compassionate God who wishes no harm on all his creation.

Immanuel watches over us as we reflect: “I have set my rainbow in the clouds, and it will be the sign of the covenant between me and the earth.” (Genesis 9:13).

Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends who need a rainbow in their life to remind them that You are faithful to your promise to watch over us and guide us in our everyday life. Help us to be aware of your loving presence and we give you thanks.

Blending

The rolled pork stuffed with spinach and goat cheese was the highlight of the family Christmas meal. There were plenty of leftovers to take to a family member who had returned from the hospital on Christmas day. However, the real surprise came when the chef decided to deglaze the roasting pans with the pork juices and “blend” them with the pan from the charcoal grill.

I like to slow cook meat on a charcoal grill. The meat melts in your mouth. But this takes extra time, so you need to find the patience. I had recently slowed cooked a pork roast on a charcoal grill for six hours. This grilled has been used to smoke various kinds of meat this fall season. The juices from the grilled pork were caught in the pan below but what I did not know was that the juices had captured the smoky flavors from all the prior grilling.

The chef had an idea to combine the Christmas pork juices with the pork dripping that had been captured in the grill. When the juices were mixed together, there were a lot of crispy trimmings that were difficult to reduce. So the chef reached for the Christmas gift, a Cuisinart blender spoon and they were able to grind up the pork trimmings that made an awesome sauce that you would die for.

Something miraculous happened in the blending. You see the pork trimmings that were captured in the grill also contained the smoky flavors from a season of grilling. Add the juices from the stuffed pork that contained the goat chesses and spinach and the blending make a sauce that would make the saints in heaven scream for more.

I like to think that a faith community is a blending of many different cultures, traditions, and experiences. What gives each faith community flavor is the spirit to experiment and try for something unique that makes the light of Christ’s loves present in their community. The blending might result in a potluck supper to help pay the medical expenses of a neighbor’s cancer treatment. Or it might be a request to donate blankets and warm socks to a local clothing shelter. It might be a dream to rebuild a former parish complex into a retreat center located in a valley where people might want to walk and commune with God in the woods.

Yes, all faith communities are a blending of God’s love that has no boundaries and cannot be contained by any faith tradition. Jesus, our master chef, brings all the ingredients together so that each one may add their seasoning to the pot. The result is a taste of heaven here on earth where people feel the warmth and forgiveness of the newborn Savior, the Iron Chef of peace and good will to all God’s children

Immanuel watches over us as we reflect: “Taste and see the goodness of the Lord; blessed is the one who takes refuge in him. (Psalm 34:8).

Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends who you have blessed with many flavors and talents. May they open their hearts to Your creative hands as You stir their hearts and blend their spirits to bring Your sweetness and love.

Crossing OIver

One of my favorite Christmas movies is “Home Alone.” There is one tender scene when Kevin is walking outside the church looking at the outdoor manger scene and you hear the choir singing from inside the church.

Kevin has been abandoned by his family. Supposedly he was inadverterly forgotten by his parents as they traveled to France for Christmas vacation. We find Kevin “all alone” in the pew listening to the carols when he spots his next door neighbor across the aisle. You see terror in this little boy’s eyes because he has been led to believe that Marley is a killer who has never been caught. Shockingly, Marley “crosses the aisle and walks up to the panic-stricken boy, smiles, and says “Merry Christmas.”

The dialogue is memorable if you ever had the feeling of not being wanted by your family, your religion or you think God no longer accepts you. Marley explains that he had come to church to hear his little granddaughter sing in the choir. He can only see her in church because he is afraid to go to her home. Marley explains that he and his son had a quarrel many years ago. He was told by that he was no longer welcomed in his son’s home.

Kevin innocently asks Marley what keeps him away. Marley very sadly says that he s afraid. “The older you get the more afraid you become.” Little Kevin confesses that sometimes he has not been very nice to his family. But he loves his dad very much and even though they had a quarrel he stills loves him and would go back to see him if they had a fight.

You can sense how sad Marley feels being estranged from his family. Finally, Kevin says to Marley: “You should call home.” Marley winces at this suggestion yet you sense he desperately wants to trust this child’s words. If only he could believe.

Many people are afraid to return to their churches on Christmas because they feel unworthy. Perhaps, you had a quarrel with someone in the church; perhaps, you no longer feel welcomed because we have been told that we are not living up to the norms of the institution. Many good people are “home alone” in their hearts.

I like to think that there is a voice calling from the manger to everyone who has felt like Marley and Kevin. We have been made to feel unworthy. How sad that some use their power to make the rest of us feel inferior. We are not living the Christian life or worse others have condemned us by their words and actions.

We need to call home. We need to “believe.” I encourage everyone this Christmas to come back to your churches and kneel by the manger scene. Look closely into the eyes of this tiny babe and can you not see the warmth and love. You have never been forgotten. Despite the harshness of life, God wants us to know that we are loved and waits for us to accept his embrace no matter how we choose to worship or practice our faith.

It is time my friends to come back to your churches and surrender your fears. Allow the power of God’s understanding and peace to take root in your souls again and walk along side of your God who loves you more than you know.

Immanuel watches over us as we reflect: “Anyone who welcomes you welcomes me, and anyone who welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me.” (Matthew 10:40).

Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends who feel left out in the cold by the harshness of this world. Help them to surrender their fears and give them the courage to come back to a faith community that welcomes all who feel unworthy. Believe and your heart will find peace.

Blessing of the First Snow

The first snow of the season is a blessing from God. The trees and shrubs have a light dusting of white resting quietly on each limb. Along the stream bank, the rocks and roots are sprinkled with laces of white that make the most exquisite of designs. God is speaking to us in a conversation that can only be heard in your heart.

Remember the meaning of blue during this Advent season. How it represents the darkness of the night that gives way to the bright light of morning. Well imagine yourself in your attic or basement trying to sort the clutter of last Christmas. You are searching for wrapping paper and ribbons amid the mess of boxes, ribbons and boxes. However, the shrapnel of memory begins to overwhelm you.

As you reach across the mess, you come upon a card of an old friend. Suddenly something very unexpected tugs at your heart. You recall the good times you had together and then all of a sudden those good memories faded and you think about all the mistakes that you and your special friend had made.

An emptiness, sadness seemed to settle into your heart. God sees what in your heart and noticed in the middle of the floor a little blue box. When you think about what the blue box was, your countenance begins to change as you recall all of the notes of encouragement that lay within that blue box.

They are the promises of God that keeps us going after our heartbreaking breakup with our friend. Inside the blue box are the reminders of the friendship that we have developed with God during the darkest time of our life.

What we can imagine next is like the gente snow that covers each branch of the tree. Suddenly our floor (our soul) is no longer filled with memories of pain and hurt but now it is just a bunch of trash and a very special blue box.

Sometimes we try to cling to our past, and the bad memories that haunt us. Sometimes the best thing to do is just throw it all away and with God’s help, just move forward!

Immanuel watches over us as we reflect: “The Lord says, Do not cling to events of the past or dwell on what happened long ago. Watch for the new thing I am going to do. It is happening already-you can see it now. (Isaiah 43:18-19).

Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends that walking in the first snow of the season we can listen to your gentle voice melting our fears that bring us comfort and peace.

Longing

Advent is about getting in touch with our longing. It’s about letting our yearnings raise our spiritual temperatures so that we are pushed to eventually let down our guard, hope in new ways, and risk intimacy.

John of the Cross had a similar image: Intimacy with God and with each other will only take place, he says, when we reach a certain kindling temperature. For too much of our lives, he suggests, we lie around as damp, green logs inside the fire of love, waiting to come to flame but never bursting into flame because of our dampness. Before we can burst into flame, we must first dry out and come to kindling temperature. We do that, as does a damp log inside a fire, by first sizzling for a long time in the flames so as to dry out.

How do we sizzle spiritually? For John of the Cross, we do that through the pain of loneliness, restlessness, disquiet, anxiety, frustration, and unrequited desire. In the torment of incompleteness our spiritual temperature rises so that eventually we come to kindling temperature and, there, we finally open ourselves to God and one another in new ways. That is an image for advent.

Advent is all about loneliness. Nobel Prize winning author, Toni Morrison describes it this way: “There is a loneliness that can be rocked. Arms crossed, knees drawn up, holding, holding on, this motion, unlike a ship’s, smoothes and contains the rocker. It’s an inside kind—wrapped tight like skin. Then there is a loneliness that roams. No rocking can hold it down. It is alive, on its own. A dry and spreading thing that makes the sound of one’s own feet going seems to come from a far-off place.”

All of us know exactly what she is describing, especially the latter type, the roaming kind of loneliness or what I like to call “noisy brain” that haunts the soul and makes us, all too often, too restless to sleep at night and too uncomfortable to be inside our own skins during the day.

What we learn from loneliness is that we are more than any moment in our lives, more than any situation we are in, more than any humiliation we have experienced, more than any rejection we have endured, and more than all the limits within which we find ourselves. Loneliness and longing take us beyond ourselves. How?

Loneliness and longing let us touch, through desire, God’s ultimate design for us. In our longing, the mystics tell us, we intuit the kingdom of God. What that means is that in our desires we sense the deeper blueprint for things. And what is that?

Scripture tells us that the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking, of simple bodily pleasure, but a coming together in justice, peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit. Ultimately, that is what we ache for in our loneliness and longing: oneness, intimacy, completeness, harmony, peace, and justice.

Our loneliness and longing are a hunger and an energy that drive us, always, beyond the present moment. In them we do intuit the kingdom of God.

Advent is about longing, about getting in touch with it, about heightening it, about letting it raise our spiritual temperatures, about sizzling as damp, green logs inside the fires of intimacy, about intuiting the kingdom of God by seeing, through desire, that our world bears the imprint of God.

Immanuel watches over us as we reflect: “All my longings lie open before you, Lord; my signing is not hidden from you. (Psalm 38:9).

Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends that this Advent we learn that our loneliness and longing are not to be feared but God’s ways of bringing us closer to the spirit of harmony and peace.

Why Blue?

So I point to Dan in the pews and invited him to walk in procession to light the first Advent candle. On the way down the aisle, this young man asks the obvious question, what is an Advent wreath? Good question Dan, let’s take it one step further and simply ask what is the purpose of Advent?

I'm sure all my Sonshine readers would answer this question by saying that it is the season in the Church's year, which leads to Christmas. However, to better understand Advent, we have to understand the origins of Christmas, which was not celebrated by Christians until the fourth century. The pagans of that time saw the world as a great cosmic struggle between the powers of darkness and the powers of light. And they noticed that at different times darkness seemed to be getting more of the light, so to speak. They were watching, if you will, two great cosmic wrestlers and at this time of the year, it appeared that the wrestler called darkness would seem to be getting the upper hand because the days were getting shorter. At least until December 21, which is when they noticed that the tables were beginning to turn, and that the sun was regaining its strength. And so when they saw this happening on an annual basis, the pagans celebrated the resurrection, or the return of the light of the sun. It was a 'sun feast', marking the transition time from darkness to light.

When the Christians came along they took over this pagan notion. They said, 'It's a pretty good idea that you have got here, and after all, we know that if you are really talking about darkness and light, the only real darkness’s of this world are the darkness of sin and the darkness of death. And the only light in this world is Jesus. So we'll keep your ideas.”

But what the Christians did, as it were, they took the word 'sun' and they took out the middle letter, 'u,' and they changed it to 'o'. So the sun they were talking about was Jesus, the Son of God, and they made this time of year a celebration when we would get ready for the tables to be turned. In the great struggle, this was the time when sin and death would now be overcome by the light of the world, Jesus, the Son of God. So they called this time Christmas, and they made Advent the time of considering an end of darkness and looking forward to the coming light. Now about those liturgical colors.

Well in history, blue actually was the color often appointed for Advent in medieval times. In the Middle Ages, blue, purple, and even black were generally regarded as interchangeable, and when blue itself was specified it was often identified as indigo, a deep hue, not a pale one, symbolically suggestive, perhaps, of the darkness of night in which the world sleeps, before the dawn of the Son of Righteousness.

Now that we have learned that blue symbolizes the darkness of the night, I like to offer some practical suggestions on bringing more light into your life during the Advent Season. Here are a few suggestions.

Mend a quarrel.
Seek out a forgotten friend.
Dismiss suspicion.
Write a long overdue love note.
Hug someone tightly and whisper, "I love you so."
Forgive an enemy.
Be gentle and patient with an angry person.
Express appreciation.
Gladden the heart of a child.
Find the time to keep a promise
Make or bake something for someone else---anonymously.
Release a grudge.
Just listen, for a change.
Speak kindly to a stranger.
Enter into another's sorrow.
Smile. Laugh a little. Laugh a little more.
Take a walk with a friend.
Kneel down and pet your kitty or dog.

Groom your horse.
Read a poem or two to your mate or friend.
Lessen your demands on others.
Play some beautiful music during the evening meal.
Apologize if you were wrong.
Turn off the television and talk.
Treat someone to an ice-cream cone (yogurt would be fine).
Do the dishes for the family.
Pray for someone who helped you when you hurt.
Fix breakfast on Saturday morning.
Give a gentle answer even though you feel strongly.
Encourage everyone your meet.
Point out one thing you appreciate most about someone with whom you live or work

Immanuel watches over us as we reflect: “A voice of one calling in the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord; make straight in the desert a highway for the Lord.” (Isaiah 40:3).

Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends that we make Advent one long, extended gift of ourselves to others. Unselfishly. Without obligation. Or reservation. Or hypocrisy. After all, this is Christmas, isn't it?

Mashed Potatoes

On Sunday evening, I asked our Brockport college students where they would be celebrating their Thanksgiving meal and secondly, what food do they look forward to most to have served at their tables. While some shared pumpkin, pecan and so-fly pie, the overall winner was simply “mashed potatoes.”

As their religion professor, the parable about the sheep and goats can be scary, but I prefer to point out that it’s a beautiful story that reminds us to simply pay attention.

Throughout this section of Matthew, Jesus has been suggesting that there will ultimately be a great division among humanity. There will be those who prepared for history’s conclusion and those who did not adequately prepare (the parable of the ten virgins). There will be those who did their best with what had been given to them and those who will be guilty of wasting their time by doing nothing (the parable of the talents).

But what we may sometimes miss in this passage is the curious fact that when you get right down to it, the sheep and the goats have one big thing in common: neither group was aware of what they did or failed to do at the time they were doing it (or failing to do it). Hence, both groups ask the exact same question: "When did all that stuff happen?"

Jesus tells the righteous folks that he was grateful for all the ways they had nourished, welcomed, clothed, tended to, and visited him. But the righteous cannot for the life of them recall doing any of that for Jesus, and so they ask, "Well now, when did we do all that for you, Lord?" Conversely, those not paying much attention cannot for the life of them recall ever seeing Jesus anywhere, much less in need of anything, and so they ask, "Well now, what day was that when we plumb missed seeing you, Jesus?" One group did the right things to Jesus, the other group failed to help Jesus, but neither realized it at the time.

Like most of my photos, I literally get down on the ground, from that perspective I see the world differently than most. Jesus identified himself snugly with the hurting of this world that whatever we do, or fail to do, in relation to those hurting people directly affects Jesus. So we forget or miss our chance. We simply don't pay attention while we live our life.

I shared with our students that on Sunday morning after the 10 am Mass, people who really, really care about them donated over 100 baked goods. Despite all their creative, baking talents, their purpose was simply to share their faith in Jesus and used the funds to support the wonderful student ministry at Newman.

At the same time no one noticed, but an 88 year-old Marilyn came to Newman for the first time. Her story was simple. She had recently moved into an assisted living home in Brockport and she had no way to get to church. Her husband died over 10 years ago and her two daughters live in Pennsylvania. So an invitation was extended to the parish asking for volunteers to bring Marilyn to our church. For 88 years Marilyn had been coming to church and I asked her to kindly stand so that we could welcome her to Newman and applaud her faith and love for Jesus. With a smile that brought our people to tears, this community warmly welcomed her at our Eucharistic table. This is what it means to walk humbly in the footsteps of Jesus. Sometimes it not money or time people need, only a smile and a hug.

That gospel story invites all of us to pay close attention to one another for I believe there is a piece of God inside each of us. If we truly believe this, then we will indeed feed the hungry, clothe the naked and all the things mentioned in the gospel reading. But sometimes we need look no further than our own home to help someone. Sometimes help can be rendered without giving money, or even our time. Sometimes it may be just as simple as giving someone a hug, which lets them know that we care about them. Or sometimes the toughest thing to do may be just telling someone whom you care about that you love them.

Simply put, I told our college students that when they go home take the time to tell mom and dad, grandma and grandpa that you missed them and give them a great big hug.

Now reflect on this psalm: “Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; his love endures forever. (Psalm 118:1).

Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends on Thanksgiving Day that we get down at our tables and remember to thank all who cooked the turkey and prepared our favorite “mashed potatoes.” From my heart and soul, I love you all and may you and all the members of your family be at peace.

Treated Like a King

Everett worked in customer service and treated everyone he met “like a king.” People would cry on the phone or walk up to his desk with tales of woe about their broken machines. You see Everett managed a car repair shop. Oh, not any ordinary shop, but one people trusted for its excellent and honest service. If he was in a middle of an order for a part and someone came to him desperate because they had a flat or the engine blew-up, he would come around his desk, put his arms around their shoulder and reassure them they things would be taken care of.

He would stop immediately and leave what he was doing. Why not? This illustrates what any good king would do when sitting with his council deliberating on high affairs of state involving the destiny of nations, when suddenly he hears the sorrowful cry of his little child, who has fallen down or been frightened by a wasp. He rises and runs to his relief, holding him tight and relieving his fears.

Is there anything "unkingly" here? Is it not most natural? I think that it even elevates the monarch in esteem. Everett was that kind of servant. For him, customer service meant listening to the people who walked through his door with their broken vehicles, listening to the sounds of their problems, setting them down with a cup of coffee, asking them for their patience while his gifted staff worked on the car and finally escorting them personally back to the car that was fixed like new. Imagine all this service from a man who had his share of medical and personal problems, but he never would let you down. Everett treated everyman man, woman and child like a king.

Now think, why would we think it dishonorable for the King of all the kings, our Heavenly Father, to consider the small matters of his children - like you, for instance!

Now reflect on this psalm: “As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on the faithful.” (Psalm 103:13).

The Heavenly Father does care about you - in His eyes, you are a very special person. Never forget that!!

Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends who often think we are of no account - no one knows about us in our particular situation - no one cares. Yet, down deep in the hearts of hearts let realize Our Lord’s loving concern. Things might not be going as they would want, but that does not mean that You are not with them in a particular situation. Bless them, and give them Your heavenly peace. Thank you Everett for treating everyone like a king and may you rest in peace taking care of all the saints vehicles in heaven.

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Anyone Can Stay

There's relatively little about hell in the gospels. Nine times in Matthew, three times in Mark, three times in Luke--many repetitions of one another--and not a word in John. In truth, we owe more of our picture of hell to the imaginations of Dante and James Joyce and fire-and-brimstone preachers than we do to Jesus.

Our pictures of hell are nothing but works of imagination--unless you know someone who has sent back postcards. There must be a hell: for people who don’t want to be with God as long as he thinks he is more important than they are.

Love is real-but-invisible, so we express it in our gifts of roses and cards, and idealize it in our hearts, our works of mercy and intimacy. Messages from God are real-but-not-physical so we embody them in burning bushes and feathery-winged angels. The point is that the inadequacy of our symbols doesn't mean the realities don't exist. In The Great Divorce, C. S. Lewis pictures hell as a Grey Town, filled with surly people. There's a bus to heaven all day long, to a beautiful meadow sloping up to breathtaking mountains. Anyone can stay, if they'll leave behind their self-absorption. If they do, their stay in the Grey Town has been purgatory; if they don't, they get back on the bus and freely go back to what has become hell. Not fascinating fire, but bleak boredom.

Heaven and hell are not places; they are the state of our soul. And we're in one or the other right now, like hikers on a trail making our way through darkness--or sunshine. We're all invited to the feast! But many have "more important" things to do; or we would prefer not to be seen with "that kind of people"; or we find it too costly to check our self-absorption at the door. Sartre was wrong, I think. Hell is not "other people"; hell is oneself. So too, of course, is heaven.

To be a mean-spirited SOB is its own punishment; to be a heartless, to have an exaggerated sense of our own importance its own emptiness; to use people as if they were no more than commodities for one's own personal profit needs no further hell. Yet, God wants to know those people. They just don't want to be known--by God or by many others. That's what hell is, I think: to be not-known--by God or, in any real sense, by anyone else.

in the story about the wise bridesmaids, they were happy because they knew their place. They weren't the bride--or the bridegroom. They were attendants. “I'm just here to help out. I just serve hors d'oeuvres; I just play in the band; I just check the coats. But, God! Whatta party!" We don’t have to be the center of attention, just a server.

I suspect those of us who "know our place" will have a lot more fun than the ones hyper-aware of what they "deserve." How lucky we are just to have the chance to live! How could we take life and all we love for granted? Who cares if we sit on the dais or bus tables in the far corner? We’re here! How lucky each of us is–-just to be, even once! Much less forever!

Immanuel watches over us as we reflect: “The Lord looks down from heaven on all huamnkind to see if there are any who understand, any who seek God.” (Psalm 14: 1-3).

Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends who know their place and seek heaven in their hearts. Bless all their daily works as they wait on others and may their souls celebrate at your banquet table in heaven.

Together We Sing

Close your eyes for a moment and picture yourself standing in a chorus of an endless 144,000 people, a singing a song of faith, singing aloud, if you will, the Gloria. And I ask you to be aware of two things that will be operating as each of us belts out our song, and you must listen to this seriously and carefully to catch its meaning.

The first is no one believes it all. Each of us in the chorus is gifted with only a partial understanding of the mystery of God among us; and so, in our large chorus, one sings with great intensity and assurance, another’s is with little attention and conviction, or perhaps today we’re caught by the words and melody because we happen to be emotionally ion a good place. But, at another time, in another mental or emotional place, we feel doubtful and alienated and we can hardly get the words out of our mouth. That OK. No one believes it all, but together we sing more than we can sing alone. Together we can sing more than we can sing alone.

The second thing that operates in this: if no one believes it all, so also no one believes all the time. Our journey of faith is seldom smooth and uninterrupted. At times it fluctuates between belief and unbelief. The list of names that you emailed contained people who have walked with you on this earth. Perhaps called them home when we were not ready to let them go home to heaven. We might say that we can no longer believe in God, in a God who would let take away our best friend or even a child. How could God do this to us? I like to share this healing thought.

Our response would be best to honor your losses, the loss of your spouse or family member, the loss, or at least, the shock to your faith. The fact of the matter is that tragedy has indeed broken your trust in a loving, compassionate God.

Now consider that your faith community believes for you. The saintly chorus picks up your faltering verses. The collective faith of the saints sustains us through periods of unbelief as we come in contact with saints of yesterday and we begin to see theirs scars and sense their resilience and they help us believe once more, in the face of tragic absurdity, in a new and different way. They help us sing with a different modulation. They sing the louder the phases that we can sing only softly through our tears.

So you see, no one here, you or I believe it all. And no one here believes all the time. No one accepts every verse and no one can sing every note all the time. But the chorus does. The chorus, or the community of saints, sings when you and I are unwilling or unable to do so.

We are a chorus of saints.

That’s what we celebrate on all Saints Day. We support each other and we become more than the sum total of our individual selves as the Communion of saints. You exhibit the gifts I don’t have and I exhibit the gifts you don’t have. You cry the tears I cannot cry and I laugh the laughter you cannot laugh. You believe when I struggle with doubt, I believe when you struggle with doubt. You smile when I am in tragedy; I grieve when you are in joy. Our faith hope and love are incomplete. But this feast of all saints tells us something. This feast gives us support. It reminds us that we belong to a vast community of time and space. It becomes a revelation and comfort. It tells us a mighty truth. Together we sing more than we sing alone.

Immanuel watches over us as we reflect: “Let the trees of the forest sing, let them sing for joy before the lord.” (Chronicles 16: 32-33).

Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends who remember all their loved ones on this Feast of all Saints. May we always remember their goodness to us and sing their praises.