Don't You Miss Him

I knew that giving this homily would be a little painful and a lot emotional, but I knew at least three weeks ago that I had to tell these two stories. Knowing, REALLY KNOWING that you missed your chance can awaken your heart to wider realities.

Christ the King Sunday, Cycle A 2011

These last three Sundays we have been reading a section from Matthew’s gospel that is often called the Eschatological Sermon – that means it’s about the end time. Two Sundays ago we heard the story of the 10 virgins, five of which were wise and five were foolish, and you might say that the message was that we should always be alert, always ready to act. Last Sunday we hear about three servants who were given talents, and you might say that the message was that, whoever we are, whatever we have been given, we must not be afraid to act. And today the Church places this scripture before us, on this Christ the King Sunday, this final Sunday of our liturgical year, because here Jesus gives us a last reminder of HOW and WHY we are to act. These words today from Matthew’s gospel are the very last words of Jesus before Matthew begins the account of Jesus’ passion and death. They are so well-positioned there because they sum up everything Jesus has taught his disciples during his public life.

I’d like to tell you a story. It’s about someone I want you to know. Liz Houlihan and I are baseball fans, and for the last several years we’ve gotten a special 16-game ticket package, so we go to a lot of games together. We usually park for free about a half-mile away, and always enter the park at the center-field gate, heading for the left field bleachers, which is where our seats are. And when you walk that way, you see many of the same people as you go by. There are several stands of people selling packaged food – candy, crackerjacks, peanuts and sunflower seeds – and it’s all less expensive than inside the stadium. There someone selling hotdogs, there’s another vendor selling grilled bratwurst, with sauerkraut. There are always a few people buying and selling tickets. And there are also beggars. There’s usually at least one guy playing a guitar or some other instrument. There’s always one guy with a sign that says, “Why lie? I need a beer!” And then there’s one elderly lady sitting in a wheelchair with a sign that says “Please help.”

Now, Liz and I usually bring some food with us, so we never stop at any of those food vendors. Occasionally we do have an extra ticket or two for some reason, so we’ll sell it to one of the scalpers – of course you seldom get even half price for it. And I tell you, I don’t drink beer myself, and I’ll be darned if I’ll ever buy a beer for that guy with the sign. But something happened to me, and this summer, I decided that I just couldn’t pass by that elderly lady anymore. So one game day when we came to that lady, Liz and I just stopped. We said hello, and gave her a couple of dollars, which she put in a cup she held on her lap. And the next game we went to, we saw her again, said hello, gave her a couple of dollars, and I said, “My name is Denny”; Liz introduced herself too. The lady thanked us, and said her name was Ruth. We said we went to a lot of games, so we’d probably see her again. And this went on, all through the summer.

Ruth was almost always in the same place, sitting in her wheelchair, and always had an oxygen hose that went up to her nose. She’s very thin, with gray hair and somewhat leathery-gray skin. She usually had a blanket on her lap, and when it gets colder she has an old coat wrapped around her. As the season was ending we gave her a card, with something extra, and asked her what she was going to do now that baseball season was over. Ruth said she would go to the soccer games and Seahawk games, but of course there weren’t as many of those games, and the weather would be getting colder. Ruth wasn’t very specific about where she lived or what she would do when all the games were over, or when it got too cold, and we didn’t want to press her. Finally, we said goodbye, and told her we hoped to see her when the season started again in the spring.

You know, I often think about Ruth. I think about her especially now, as the weather turns cold. I hope and pray that nothing bad happens to her. You know, I sometimes hear individuals talk about beggars as if they made a lot of money doing it, and then when they’re done they go home to a good life. But I wouldn’t want to sit in a wheelchair holding a sign, while people walk past you, constantly ignoring you, most of them trying not to even make eye contact. And so if you go to Seahawk games, I want you to look for an elderly lady in a wheelchair; there can’t be too many of them. If you see her, introduce yourself, give her a few dollars, and ask her for her name. You could tell her Liz and Denny are thinking of her.

I want to acknowledge that parishioners here at St. Bridget parish support the poor in a lot of ways. In a few minutes we’ll collect food for our food bank – a lot of that food goes to the families living in subsidized housing over at Sand Point, and the folks in our St. Vincent de Paul visit there almost every week and help them out. Just a few weeks ago, a lot of you went down to the Urban SoupLine, a fundraiser for the Sacred Heart Shelter, which provides temporary housing for women and families, and some of you also bring food down there and cook them a good dinner. Some of you help cook for the Orion Center – did you know they’re now feeding around 70 young people at a time, mostly teenagers, living on the street! And there are parishioners who make sandwiches every Wednesday morning for the Francis House, and still others active in the 2nd Sunday meal program at St. George Episcopal Church, organized by the Mennonites -- it's a real ecumenical effort. This is all true. But there are a LOT of poor out there nowadays, more than one person or one parish can serve. In a couple of Sundays we’ll have the collection for Catholic Community Services – this is one of the best ways you can reach them. As our state and federal governments face continuing cuts in service for the poor, CCS offers many excellent organized ways for us to do what we can, to meet a growing need. We should all be generous -- VERY generous. We have homes, we have a hot meal to look forward to this evening, a bed to sleep in.

Today’s gospel tells us that whatever we do for the least of our brothers and sisters, we do for Jesus. Do we want to know how to find Jesus? Serve the poor. Tend to their needs. Do we want Jesus in our life? Get to know the poor by name. Love them as we would love Him.

I would like to tell you another story. When I told you about Ruth a few minutes ago, I began by saying something happened to me, that I couldn’t walk by her anymore. This is what happened.

It was last winter. It was a cold Thursday night, I think about 10:30 – there was still snow on the ground, ice in places. I know it was Thursday because I regularly bowl on Thursday nights, at a little place up in Richmond Beach, and that night I came back home via Lake City Way. And I was hungry so I stopped at Dick’s. [Dick's is a well-know hamburger stop.] I was the only customer there – it was a bleak night. And as I placed my order, I saw this guy, standing maybe 50 feet away, by the entrance from the street. I could see he wasn’t dressed very warmly. So I ordered something extra, and when I drove out, I stopped by him & got out of the car. I said he looked really cold, and asked him if he wanted something to eat. He said thanks, and took the food, and we chatted for a bit. He was young, maybe in his mid-20’s. He said he just got out of the hospital, and I could see a bandage on his shoulder and neck. He said he had gotten hurt when he arrived in Seattle, and now that he was out of the hospital he didn’t have a place to go to. And when he said that, I have to confess that I didn’t know what to say. Finally, I told him I needed to go, and I gave him a few dollars, which he thanked me for, and I left.

When I got just a few blocks away, I had a feeling that I should go back. But ... I didn’t. I couldn’t make myself turn the car around. Instead, I went home, to my warm house. And I went to bed ... but not to sleep. And it finally came to me what was wrong. That young man was Jesus. He was hurt, alone, and cold on a miserable night. My head kept trying to tell myself that I was just being foolish about this, but my heart knew the truth, and wasn’t buying it.

Don’t YOU miss Jesus.

Deacon Denny Duffell, November 20, 2011

Veterans Day

I don't like holidays that aggrandize war, warmaking, or warriors, or which inflate the so-called noble things that people do ignoble things to other people for. I liked the honesty of the movie Patton, because right up front, right at the beginning of the movie, you see the General himself, standing in front of a giant American flag and telling his (unseen) troops that "nobody ever won a war by dying for his country -- you make the other XXXX die for HIS country." Right up front, the movie is honest about war.

Memorial Day is the day we remember those men and women who died while serving in the Armed Forces. So...if that's what Memorial Day is, then what is Veterans Day? Wikipedia says it's a "holiday honoring military veterans." I think that truly is the commonly understood meaning of the holiday.

Indeed, last Saturday morning, Joan and I were in a hotel in Milwaukee, attending a weekend conference. Starting early in the morning, in the street below our window, an early Veterans Day parade was assembling. And it was clear, from the floats to marchers to decorated cars and uniformed men and women, that the parade was assembled to honor our veterans.

HOWEVER... it's important to recall that Veterans Day commemorates the end of World War I, which ended with the signing of the Armistice on "the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month" in 1918. Hence, it was originally known as Armistice Day, the day that ended the "war to end all war."

David Swanson posted a short but excellent article on Veterans Day a few days ago, entitled Farhenheit 11/11/11, in which he reminds us that: "November 11th was not made a holiday in order to celebrate war, support troops, or cheer the 11th year of occupying Afghanistan. This day was made a holiday in order to celebrate an armistice that ended what was up until that point, in 1918, one of the worst things our species had thus far done to itself, namely World War I."

He quotes Sherwood Eddy, an early and enthusiastic supporter of U.S. entry into World War I, who had abhorred pacifism, but who later came to write The Abolition of War (1924), and support the international campaign to outlaw all war. At the war front, as the battles raged, Eddy writes, 'We told the soldiers that if they would win we would give them a new world.'

Swanson goes on: "As President Wilson had talked up peace as the official reason for going to war, countless souls had taken him extremely seriously." Thus, "The decade following the war was a decade of searching for peace. Peace echoed through so many sermons, speeches, and state papers that it drove itself into the consciousness of everyone. Never in world history was peace so great a desideratum, so much talked about, looked toward, and planned for, as in the decade after the 1918 Armistice."

I wasn't alive then, but I find that picture very believable, and it gives me a lot of hope. However not long after that, the Great Depression descended upon the country, and we worried about other things.

Still, it's good to remember that this holiday is about the END of war and warrior-ing. Let's celebrate THAT cause.

A Long Spell

This post isn't going to be about anything I read or heard or wrote. The thing is, I'm tired. I do regret haven't had much time to post, or much chance to access to my home computer.

It hasn't been drudgingly tiring; I've enjoyed this latest period of my life. Take these last two weeks, for example; it's been an invigorating time! I've been part of a lot of intense, varied activities, yet still have found times for reflection and creativity.

It may have started with the weekend of the homily on taxes (which for the times may have been as challenging to the ethos of my parish as any I've given), and it continued with the JustFaith retreat last weekend.

There have been some sensitive pastoral times as well during that span, both with parishioners and at the hospital.

Adding to it was the craziness at home too, because by some unfortunate and untimely coincidences, both my daughters and their families have been living with us in the Duffell household (which explains the loss of access to the computer). We are six large adult bodies, a teenager, an active 5-year-old, a baby, and two cats, one of whom is occasionally (and sadly) incontinent. That sounds a little like a TV sitcom, or maybe it's just like one of the things that just happens in life, as in "Stuff happens."

This past weekend was a welcome getaway for a convocation of the archdiocesan deacons, but even during that time I was "on tap" for a meeting of the board and "on the agenda" for helping lead the final presentation to my brother deacons.

And tomorrow won't be much of a day off, either, with appointments at 7:30 a.m. and 10:30 a.m., and several calls to make on parish business. I hope somewhere to fit in an hour for bowling (!), but know I have to take time to purchase some new glasses.

But...HERE'S THE THING. Though tired, I feel really alive. It's not an adrenaline thing, like a rush because there's so much activity. Thing is, I've had time for introspection and prayer...some singing...a couple of quiet walks...times to touch base with a couple of good friends. Most of all, I feel that in some measure I'm in tune with where I'm supposed to be ... even though it's not clear yet WHAT it's supposed to be. (Aack! With that last comment I noticed I sounded like I was in my twenties again!)

And looking ahead...next weekend I'm going away with Joan, to the Call to Action Conference in Milwaukee. I'm very curious about it. I anticipate a lot of energy, with some things I won't agree with, some things that will be very challenging, and some things that will be resonate strongly with me and be good for my soul. I hope to bring my laptop with me and write a few words about it.