Today’s Reflection from Father Dave

Another advantage of “Shelter in Place” is that you can accomplish chores not otherwise possible. So borrowing from the School morning assembly, I have a Fun Fact of my own: There are 31,317 verses in the Bible. I will let you figure out what version of the Bible I used for this little known tidbit.

Today I have been reflecting on the shortest verse John 11:35, “Jesus wept.” Two words encompass the entire verse. Why were there tears? Lazarus had died, and Jesus truly loved Lazarus and his sisters, Martha and Mary. They were his “go to” friends whenever He was in the neighborhood, that place where He could relax and enjoy good company. He grieved, as any of us would grieve the loss of such a friend.

Did He weep because even after all this time His closest friends did not seem to get the message of His mission? Just the chapter before Jesus says, “I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” It was not just to live more years, but how to live those years we have.

Or maybe He wept looking at the tomb, and saw His future and what lay before Him. Were they tears of anguish for what awaits Him in Jerusalem? Did He see the fulfillment of His mission? The whole purpose of His life, His mission, was to fulfill the Father’s dream to save His people. But the cost would be great.

So, I begin to wonder if these are tears of sorrow, or tears of joy? Lately, when I am not counting scripture verses, I have been reflecting on what it will be like when things return to “normal,” and I do believe they will. I try to imagine what it will be like when the church once again has people gathered and praying together. What will it be like to extend a hand and not have to pull it back? To embrace someone and not worry about it being a death grip. To hear and see the laughter and play of children once again on the yard. I must admit, tears begin to well up in one’s eyes at such moments. (Which is another good thing about walking early in the morning, because in the daylight people might think the Padre has lost it completely.) But these are happy tears!

During these days there is a great deal of anxiety, stress, isolation, and I dare say tears. Tears worried over our loved ones, tears that maybe we have not lived life to the fullest, or have taken the Lord’s lessons too lightly. Tears of the unknown struggle still before us. Yet, maybe they are tears of love and joy, the comfort of knowing that there is someone who knows all that range of emotion that is present at this time, and is by our sides, in Him and through Him we have faith. Yes, I find myself looking to the day when “normalcy” returns to life.

Your Wandering Padre,

Father Dave

Today’s Reflection from Father Dave

“Habla usted inglés?”  “Si” came the response. “Great! I would like to send some things home to the United States.” I was in Pamplona, the third day of my pilgrimage; I had overpacked. After climbing over the Pyrenees and realizing I carried items I really did not need, with a month of walking and 450 miles to go, I would send things home. The postal clerk asked if I was a pilgrim going to Santiago. (Perhaps the disheveled look and backpack gave me away?) She told me simply to send it ahead to Santiago. It would be much cheaper, and then I would have another reason to reach my destination.

I had packed items “in case of,” or “I might need this,” and all those items added to my burden. During this time of shelter in place many of my duties are curtailed, and I find myself cleaning closets, bookshelves, cupboards. It is amazing what one finds and what one has kept “in case of” or because “I might need it,” but now goes into the trash or recycling bin. When I finish there is a feeling of great accomplishment (okay little victories impress me at this time), but no one to show it to, so I am writing to get some applause and acknowledgement.

It is not just physical items that weigh me down, but it is so many other worries and concerns. This Lent, more than any other I can remember, has made me pause and reflect on what I carry around. My older brother reminds me that I pack the pack; I determine what I am going to carry. The airport security even asks that question as I wander through the checkpoints, “Did you pack this bag?”

As one would have a favorite Station of the Cross, mine would be the fifth station: Simon of Cyrene Helps Jesus Carry the Cross. I mentioned in an earlier reflection that one must carry one’s own backpack. In this station Jesus carries His own cross, but He does experience the help of another. He understands what it means to take some of the weight from a person who is struggling. Do you not think that during this time of uncertainty, chaos, and anxiety, the yoke we feel is made easier by the Lord’s hand, if only we believe in that promise?

When that postal clerk took my belongings, packed them in a box, labeled it, put the correct postage on it, and placed it in a bin, she did more than just ease the weight on my shoulders. She gave me encouragement to make this walking pilgrimage to my destination.

She was someone who showed me Faith, Hope, and Love in action.

Your Wandering Padre,

Father Dave

Today’s Reflection from Father Dave

“How come I do not get one of the rings or the silver?” “Because you will just hawk it,” was the response of my sisters. One of the greatest gifts given to their children by my parents was sitting down with the clan and going through the family estate, dividing up the spoils. We sat around the dining room table, taking turns selecting articles that would be passed on to us. When it came my time to pick Dad placed the cookie jar in front of me and said, “This is yours; your hand was in it often enough.” Yes, my siblings got the wedding rings of grandparents and parents; some would receive the silver or fine china. My take that day was a cookie jar and a beer stein. Yet, I also received the richest gift: my dad’s cross.

I received an email from a parishioner who shared about the cross he carried in his pocket and the prayer that went with it called, The Cross In My Pocket. He would have liked my dad, as that prayer was what my father believed about the cross he wore. You see, when my father was soon to be shipped off to the war in Europe he purchased this cross and chain to wear. He wore it everyday for the next 60+ years and gave it to me on his death, and I continue to wear it. On this Friday in Lent I share the words of that prayer, adapted for my dad and me:

I wear a cross a simple reminder to me

Of the fact that I am a Christian no matter where I may be.

This little cross is not magic, nor is it a good luck charm.

It isn’t meant to protect me from every physical harm.

It is not for identification for all the world to see.

It’s simply an understanding between my Savior and me.

When I touch my hand to my chest

The cross is there to remind me of the price He paid for me.

It reminds me, too, to be thankful for my blessings day by day,

And to strive to serve Him better in all that I do or say.

It is also a daily reminder of the peace and comfort I share

With all who know my Master and give themselves to His care.

So I wear a cross around my neck reminding no one but me

That Jesus Christ is the Lord of my life if only I’ll let Him be.

Father Dave’s Cross

You can see a photo of the cross and it is not blurry, just the images have worn down after 75+ years of resting against our hearts. Yes, we have a cross to carry during these uncertain times, but there is a comfort in placing it on my shoulders and over my heart, this cross that has seen other difficult times. It is a reminder of my father’s quiet, lived-out faith and the extent our Heavenly Father would go for His beloved children.

In Faith, Hope, and Love,

Father Dave