Today’s Reflection from Father Dave

“You’re my son and I love you …” Mom never finished these sentences; they were often said when my mouth or actions got ahead of my brain. Sometimes I wonder if God has not picked up the same habit with me, and this is especially true this Lent.

All of us try to decide what we will offer up or do in the Lenten season. It is hardwired in us as Catholics. Now I decided to be more Christ-like and thought I had the perfect Lenten practices. I would hang out with sinners, upset religious leaders, tell stories that make people think, choose unpopular friends, be kind, loving, and merciful, and finally take naps (Jesus did on boats). I was doing quite well on the first two and the last one, and then I heard those words, “David, you are my son and I love you….”

Lent changed, and so did my resolutions about what I must and needed to do. One pundit commented: “I did not know I was going to give this much up for Lent!” Mom never finished those sentences; she knew that as soon as I engaged my heart, soul, and mind, I would know what to do or say. It was just a temporary lapse on my part in trying to be the person she knew I could and would be.

What is transpiring this year has made all of us stop and reflect. I am never one to believe that God uses evil or suffering as the means for us to change. I believe that God takes what is happening and reminds us with those simple words: You are my child and I love you! How we respond to all that has happened is possible because we know that in the midst of chaos those words are spoken over and over again.

My Lenten practices have changed. I push myself to write these daily reflections, to walk between churches, and film daily mass. They are probably more in line with the works of Lent: Prayer, Fasting, and Almsgiving than the ones I started doing early in this season of Lent.

In Faith, Hope, and Love

Father Dave

Today’s Reflection from Father Dave

“Got to feed my fish today…we have six…their names are Sync, Blubby, Fish-fish, Noodle, and Burple…they are Tetras…Mine is named Sync.” So said a text message I received from a young parishioner.

A few days ago I began writing these daily reflections just as an outlet, as suddenly I found myself without a Sunday community and no mass. These writings have now become a regular part of my Lenten practice. (I’m not a big fan of writing; just ask our bulletin editor.) They’ve become a way to keep connected to my parishioners in this time of “social distancing.”

I find that phrase very misleading, as we are called to physically distance ourselves from one another, but now more than ever we need to reach out and share what is going on in our isolations. A simple message shared on social media can change an entire day.

It is ironic that in the season of Lent many had planned to sacrifice social media as part of their Lenten practices, and now they take to it more than ever. All of us without exception do one thing the same: we push the “share icon” in whatever we have written or read. We SHARE. In this time more than ever before it becomes very important to remember: SHARE.

Today is the Feast of the Annunciation when God first announced to Mary the fulfillment of His dream to share his only begotten Son with us. Just think, exactly 3 months ago the churches were packed (no “social distancing” at that time). Families were together; students were home for the break, and handshakes, hugs, and kisses were the norm. This Feast of the Annunciation is where it all began. Now in these trying times, in the very midst of our Lenten season, families are together; our churches are empty; we are told to keep distant from one another: “Don’t touch. Wash your hands.” Yet the message of this feast day is that God desires to share His Son with us. It would take the “yes” of Mary, a young person, to make this a reality.

Sometimes we struggle and wonder where God is in all this darkness. God is with us, Emmanuel, we proclaimed just 3 months ago. That has not changed, and today we proclaim the name Jesus, God Saves. Remember, God’s message of salvation came through the promise of Mary to share God’s love with the world.

My day was made brighter, more hopeful, in the message of a young parishioner: “Got to feed the fish today.”

So I continue to share, in Faith, Hope, and Love.
Fr. Dave

Today’s Reflection from Father Dave

Cannot share the burden, but I can walk with you.

To once again bore you with my pilgrimage walks (like being invited over to someone’s house to watch videos or slides of their vacation), this time it is about backpacks.

Backpacks are fitted for each person. Go in; they measure you, and help adjust the straps. But in the end, it is you who carry the pack and all that you put into it. I found that as I walked, I fiddled with the pack; I felt the weight, where it rubbed wrong, and thought about it often. I was and still am a solo walker, enjoying the quiet and prayerful times that have been part of these treks.

As in any Camino, you meet others and at times find yourself keeping company. It was during these times that my pack and its discomforts were forgotten. The person I walked with did not take any of the weight off my shoulders, did not carry the pack for me, but the companionship helped lighten the burden.

I thought of this on Sunday when out for a walk with Mack (my black labrador). I came across a member of our community who was out trying to clear her heart and soul over difficult decisions that had to be made during this time. She agonized over the future as we talked across the street from one another. Never had I felt so completely useless to another, and all we could do was give a virtual hug during these times.

The gospel yesterday was the story of Jesus curing the synagogue official’s son, but different than most of the healing stories of Jesus, the child is distant from the physical touch of Jesus. We cannot in these times be physically present to those who are struggling in isolation, fear, and anxiety. We cannot relieve the physical, emotional, and even spiritual burdens they carry, but we can simply travel with them, walk beside them and listen.

We strive not to share the virus, but we can share the journey and somehow that makes a difference.

Your Wandering Padre
Fr. Dave