Rousing Rambling

  Reflection on “The Joy of Being a Deacon” by John P. Flanagan Several years ago, while presenting at another parish’s Lenten retreat, I finished my talk on holiness by asking the retreatants the question, “At the end of your life, how do you hope to be remembered by others?” I shared with the retreatants that I hope to be remembered as a man of joy.  I confessed that I know that I have a long way to go to achieve that goal, but that I continue to try to live a life of joy by attempting to love others as God loves them.  Small group discussions followed.  As each table reported back to the full group, people reported wanting to be remembered for charity, love, compassion, faithfulness, generosity, and so many other positive attributes.  I thought the sharing was going extremely well, until a woman stood up and emphatically declared, “there were a lot of good answers at our table, but I don’t think any of them matter.  I don’t care ...

I was raised in a home that when someone came to visit, we pulled out all of the stops to make them feel welcome.   Glasses would quickly come out of the hutch.   A pitcher was given to one of the children to go down to the “wine room” to fill with some of my father’s home-made wine.   Plates were quickly filled with nuts, dried fruits, and any other appetizers that were kept in the house for when “company came.” When we expected visitors, all of this work was done prior to their arrival.   As a child, once the feast was set, I would simply stare at all of the goodies, which could not be touched until our guests arrived.   In the case of unexpected company, we were still so thrilled to receive them into our home, but the first few minutes of their visit was spent putting together their welcome feast.   Everything had to be just right.   At a young age, I truly learned what it meant to serve another with a joyful heart. I never once heard my mother co...