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 ...

  April 21, 2022 St. Anthony’s Shrine, Boston, MA      I have developed quite a love for St. Anthony’s Shrine in downtown Boston, MA as a place where I have experienced the merciful presence of Jesus on more than one occasion.  It is known to many as “the worker’s chapel.”  I first came to know them while working in the financial district as a place to attend Mass on holy days, but also as a place to seek mercy in the sacrament of reconciliation.      It was there several years ago that I confessed to a priest that I wasn’t honoring my father.  I told him that long periods of time could pass without me making an effort to reach out to my father and speak with him.  My penance was to pray for my father, and to begin to offer small acts of kindness toward my father.  As a result of that confession, I spent years making Monday nights my designated time to spend with my father.  It brought me...

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...

July 6, 2015 Rosa Parks Circle, Grand Rapids, Michigan 38 th Convention of the National Association of Pastoral Musicians Public Concert with the Cortez family   While sitting in Rosa Parks Circle, in Grand Rapids, MI, attending an outdoor concert by Jaime Cortez and family, I watched a homeless man take his place at my side with a tin container of spaghetti and another container of some other food.   Clearly, one or two of the hundreds of people in attendance at the outdoor event had given this man food to eat.   As he sat there eating the spaghetti with his hands, he seemed to be content.   He was clearly tapping his foot to the beautiful Catholic songs of the Cortez family, their Spanish rhythms and percussive beats evoking joy. Every once in a while, he’d break out into a little seated dance.   He seemed to be enjoying the spaghetti, as he pulled each handful to his mouth to eat.   I have to admit, shamefully, that I was a little grossed out wa...