Journeying Into Mystery

INTRODUCTION

This past summer with an increasing number of people receiving vaccinations against Covid-19, I thought, as did many, that the pandemic was finally behind us. Then, the Delta Variant hit decimating the South, and, now, the State of Minnesota.

What the Delta Variant and the new Omicron Variant is illustrating vividly, is that this pandemic is anything but over. With a population still refusing to get vaccinated, people not only continue to get infected, spread infection, and die from infection, but continue to churn out new variants of Covid-19. With the Delta variant infecting and killing people as readily as the initial surge of Covid-19, Ruthie and I have returned to donning our masks in public places, even though we are fully vaccinated and have received our Covid booster shot.

I think that it is this Deja Vu experience of these new variants that have raised within me an awareness of how I have responded to the initial experience of Covid-19. Not surprisingly, I responded to the horror, the uncertainty of life, the anxiety and the isolation caused by the pandemic by composing music. In my present retrospection, I have found a burst of creativity in my life during those initial months of the pandemic, from the months of March through September. This is what I am presenting here.

MUSIC AND ART REFLECTING THE HISTORIC ERA

Music. art, and literature always reflect what is occurring in human history. Wars, political unrest, world wide pestilences and plagues, are the reference points for much of the great art created. For instance, Boccaccio’s Decameron was written during the Bubonic Plague raging through Italy. Beethoven initially composed the Eroica Symphony in response to Napoleon’s war of aggression in Europe. Chopin, in one night, composed the “Revolutionary” Etude, the music reflecting the composers great anger at the invasion of his native Poland. Shostakovitch, composed his 7th Symphony in Leningrad as Nazi Germany was raining shells and bombs on the besieged city. Shostakovich later dedicated the symphony to the 27 million Russians who lost their lives fighting Nazi Germany in World War II.

In popular music, all we need do is listen to the music of the 1960’s to see how violence of that era, from the deaths of the innocent in Civil Rights marches throughout the United States, the assassinations of JFK, RFK, Malcom X, Martin Luther King and others throughout the world, to the horrors of the Vietnam War, transformed the music of that decade.

The year of 2020 has been one of the worse years experienced by the world in recent history. In the United States alone, the incompetence and mismanagement of the pandemic by President Trump and his administration led to the deaths of over 500,000 Americans, the subsequent shutdown of much of human life, an economy in a tailspin, and the politicization of the pandemic from the same administration. Throughout all of 2020 there was heightened anxiety and desperation experienced emotionally by all Americans in the United States.

As if the pandemic and the incompetent response was not enough, it was also an election year. People were already in a fragile state without all the political rhetoric that accompanies all election campaigns, the plethora of negative campaign ads, and the dissemination of lies and false information. In the middle of all this negativity, came the murder of George Floyd by Minneapolis police, with its subsequent protests throughout the whole world, and the violence caused by extremists on both the political right and political left. QAnon’s lies were running rampant among the ill-informed, and the refusal of President Trump to acknowledge he lost the election, fueled more lies, more angst, more anger and more violence that eventually led to the Insurrection on January 6th, 2021. Is it any wonder people are emotionally and spiritually scarred and exhausted by the chaos of 2020?

Beginning March of 2020 and completed at the end of September of 2020, I composed 55 piano songs that I now see as my visceral response to these events, specifically the pandemic, of 2020. What follows is summary of the music I composed and the inspiration behind the compositions. As I reread what I had written at the time I composed the music, I find it as relevant today as it was when I wrote it.

I have included the MP3 of each song composed. You can also listen to the music for free on YouTube, stream the music on Pandora and other streaming services, and buy digital recordings of all the music on iTunes and Amazon Music. All music, all text, and all poems in this post are owned and copyrighted (c) 2020, by me, Robert Charles Wagner.

FROM THE LIPS OF BABES AND CHILDREN

I composed all the music on the album, From the Lips of Babes and Children in the month of March, 2020. I felt compelled to compose this music as a response to the panic and the general lack of control many people were feeling in response to the great death and suffering of people of people by Covid-19 in the North East, with New York City, Boston, and other areas of New England, and in California and the State of Washington.

The pictures of mass graves on Hart Island, off the coast from New York City, that received the countless number of human remains occupying the refrigerator trucks outside New York City hospitals were haunting. Another haunting memory was President Trump’s refusal to allow the docking of a cruise ship in which all people on board were suffering and dying of Covid 19, because it “looked bad” for Trump. Trump finally being forced to capitulate and allow the cruise ship to dock. The news reports from pandemic ravaged Seattle were especially grim and sobering.

Under this cloud of despair, were the valiant stories and efforts of medical personnel fighting a virus we knew very little about and trying to stave off the imminent deaths of so many people. Many of these doctors and nurses ended up dying from the pandemic themselves. A veil of malaise settled upon the nation early in March of 2020. This was only made greater by the lack of leadership on the part of our government leaders, beginning with the President, who sought to reassure people by saying the pandemic would end as the weather got warmer, and the virus could be ended by people ingesting Lysol and bleach. Equally unsettling was the genuine lack of support and compassion by many of our religious leaders.

My intention for the music on From the Lips of Babes and Children was to help quiet the anxiety and uncertainty people were experiencing in their lives.

Here are the songs on the album:

How Lovely Is Your Dwelling Place (mistakenly identified as God’s Love Be With You on the digital release). This is a setting of my favorite psalm, Psalm 84

Prelude – For Those Who Are Suffering, was composed as a musical prayer for the victims of Covid-19 trapped on the cruise ship off the coast of San Francisco.

A Song of Francis to Brother Leo, was based on the comforting short letter Francis of Assisi gave to his traveling companion, Brother Leo.

“Brother Leo, health and peace from Brother Francis!

I am speaking, my son, in this way—as a mother would—because I am putting everything we said on the road in this brief message and advice. If, afterwards, you need to come to me for counsel, I advise you thus: In whatever way it seems better to you to please the Lord God and to follow His footprint and poverty, do it with the blessing of the Lord God and my obedience. And if you need and want to come to me for the sake of your soul or for some consolation, Leo, come.”

From the Lips of Babes and Children, based on Psalm 8, is meant to convey the utter trust of children in God, and God’s loving care for all who are vulnerable.

The Book of Job Blues, was composed as a musical prayer for those suffering from a general feeling of despair, using the story of Job as the inspiration, and composed more in the style of George Gershwin.

We Do Well To Sing To Your Name is based on Psalm 92. It is an acknowledgement of how all things that God creates are good, and that God cares for all of Creation.

Waltz for John and Elaine Harty was a music memorial to my good friend and colleague, John Harty, who died early on from a long illness during the opening days of the pandemic. John and I were educators at St Wenceslaus School many years ago.

Seeds That Fall on Good Ground, is based on Psalm 65, which speaks on how God blesses the crops and the animals. I composed this for my good friends, Deacon Len and Ellie Shambour. Len and Ellie have been farmers all their lives and have been wonderful stewards of the land.

A Frolic for Floyd, Henri, and Belle I composed to honor the memory of my family’s two Great Pyrenees, Floyd and Henri, and for Belle, a “Boxerdore (part Boxer, part Labrador), our rescue dog. Living on a corner, the dogs spend a great deal of time barking and protecting the home from little old ladies, children on bicycles, and children walking home from school. It is a whimsical music composition trying to mimic the great cacophony of the dogs as people would walk by, contrasted by the times of quiet as they napped from all their activity. I must confess that it is my favorite song on the album.

God’s Love Be With You (falsely named “God’s Love Is With You” on the digital release), is based on the text of blessings found in Hebrew Scripture. I ended this collection of music with the intent of letting people know that in whatever emotional state in which they may find themselves, God is always blessing them and caring for them.

A PASCHAL JOURNEY

During the time of the Paschal Season of 2020, beginning on Ash Wednesday and ending on Pentecost Sunday, I composed the 13 songs that are on the album, A Paschal Journey.

The intent behind all these music compositions was to take the listener on a reflective journey, comparing their own Paschal Journey during Lent and Easter to the Paschal Journey of Jesus, which was being celebrated virtually everywhere because of the pandemic.

The Paschal Mystery of Jesus, which we celebrate during Lent and Easter Seasons, is not just about a recreation liturgically of the Passion, the Death, and the Resurrection of Jesus. Rather, it is about the joining of our own Paschal Journey with all of its suffering, deaths, and resurrection with that of Christ’s. St Paul, in his letter to the Romans, reminds us that when we were baptized, we were baptized not only into the death of Jesus, but that we rise as well with him in the resurrection.

As the pandemic continued to rage around us, the number of pages devoted to obituaries in the newspapers expanded to contain all the names of the victims who died from Covid-19. On one Sunday, during the first surge of the pandemic, I counted up to 12 pages of obituaries in the Star Tribune of Minneapolis. It was a very vivid reminder of how intimately the Paschal Journey of those who had died, and those they left behind, was linked to the Passion, Death, and Resurrection of Jesus.

I used the Gospel of John’s account of the Passion, Death, and Resurrection of Jesus as my template for the 13 songs in this collection of music. Along with the music, I also composed a brief reflection on each song upon which the listener could meditate. I believe the scriptural passage from the 2nd letter of Paul to the Corinthians is an aid for the suffering and those accompanying those who are suffering. Paul reminds us that that which is “truly real” is hidden from us in this world, but that which is real and not transitory is already present and enfolds us.

Here are the songs and the brief meditations on the songs:

 “Prelude-Kyrie” is the beginning of the Paschal Journey, when we discover as did Moses did with the burning bush, that there is something far greater than us. In the words of the 12 steps, when did we come to know our “higher power?”

“Create in Me a New Heart” is based on Ezechial 36. God tells Israel that he will turn their hearts of stone into hearts of flesh. The second part of our journey is to acknowledge the parts of our hearts that are stone, and ask God to transform those stony parts into hearts of flesh.

“On Knees Washing Feet”  in John’s Passion, the One who created the world, gets down on his knees and washes the feet of those he has created. We must learn to be humble, modeling our humility after that of Jesus. Jesus washed the feet of Judas Iscariot. It is easy to wash the feet of those we like. Do we find it difficult to wash the feet of those we do not like?

“Love One Another” is based Jesus’ Great commandment of love. ”Love one another as I have loved you.” As we listen to this music, let us meditate on whom we are called to love. Who are we called to love more than others? Jesus says, our enemies and those who persecute us.  Do we find ourselves plotting revenge against them? The great comedian W.C. Fields expressed this as “thinking thoughts that would make a coroner quail.”Can we motivate ourselves to pray for them? This is a major part of our Paschal Journey. This very necessary step prepares us for the hardship that awaits us.

“At Prayer In the Kidron Valley” As we walk into the Crucible that awaits us, all we know is that suffering will be  involved. In Mark and Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus cries out to God in agony and God remains silent. In Luke’s Gospel, God sends an angel to comfort Jesus. This is a song of trust, trust that we know God is with us even at times when it seems that God is absent.

“In The Crucible” This song is based on Psalm 22. When we are in the Crucible, we experience great suffering in our lives. It may appear that God has abandoned us. However as grim as Psalm 22 may begin, the psalm does not end in despair, but rather in victory. We will not die, but will be transformed forever.

“Pieta” We are familiar with the image of Mary holding the lifeless body of Jesus after he is taken down from the cross. This image is reflected in this song. As Mary mourns the death of her Son, her mind wanders back to the time when she was singing him a lullaby as a baby, then travels back to the reality that she is holding her lifeless child. In the Crucible there are parts of us that have died and we must let go of that within us that has died. This is dedicated to all parents who have lost a child.

“Resurrection”. As we rise from the dead, we begin to take stock of who we have now become. We have been transformed, but we may not fully realize the change that has really taken place within us. As you listen to the music, meditate on the experience of the resurrection that followed your suffering. How did it feel to “rise from the dead?” What insight had you gained from both your dying and your rising? In what way did you change from who you once were? In what ways have your values changed?

“Mystagogy – Magdalene In The Garden”. It is inspired by the story of Mary Magdalene who goes back to the tomb and asks the angel where the body of Jesus has been hidden. Thinking Jesus is a gardener, he speaks her name and she knows he is alive. Mystagogy is when we take time to pause and reflect on the resurrection we have experienced. How we are different because of the Passion and Death we have undergone? Do we find ourselves tempted to recover who we once were? Do we resist the transformation that we have experienced, or, do we follow the counsel of Jesus to Mary that let go of the past and embrace the transformation that has occurred within us?

“Mystagogy – On the Shore of Lake Tiberius”. At this part of our Paschal Journey, we begin to examine the number of times we have doubted God during our Crucible. We all do this. I remember Bishop Romeo Blanchette of the Joliet Diocese who, when dying from ALS, state that we ask others to pray for us when we are sick, because we are too sick to pray. Even in Peter’s weakness, Jesus loved Peter. Jesus continues to love us as he did Peter, and tells us to feed his sheep.

“Mystagogy – Standing on Mount Olivet”. After Jesus has ascended, the angel asks the disciples, “why are you standing around looking up in the sky?” Following our own Crucible and resurrection, we discern the question “What am I to do next?” It will take the Holy Spirit to open our eyes and show us the way. In what direction is the Holy Spirit coaxing us to move? Do we pray to the Holy Spirit to open our minds to reveal what God is calling us to do, now?

“Mystagogy – Pentecost”. We begin to discern what God has planned for us in the future. We reflect on how we have changed and the gifts and the knowledge we must share with others. Like the disciples of Jesus, men and women alike, it is now time for us to carry on the ministry to which we have been led by the Holy Spirit. How are we to use the gifts, the knowledge we have received from God to build up the Reign of God in our world?

“Mystagogy – Jesus Through Me”. It is at this point that we discover that Jesus was there at the beginning of our Paschal Journey, was with us every step of our Paschal Journey, and is there awaiting us at the end of our Paschal Journey. And, lastly, meditate on the world of Julian of Norwich. She said that Jesus is nearer to us than our souls. At that time in her life, there was political unrest all around her, with many men, women, and children being executed by different political factions. The Black Death, the Bubonic Plague, had killed up to 250 million people throughout Europe. In the middle of all this death, all this chaos, Julian had her revelation in which Jesus speaks to her, “All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.” In what way, do you feel interiorly, the truth of these words Julian penned so long ago, that all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well?

I conclude this meditation with these wonderful words from St. Paul:

Everything indeed is for you, so that the grace bestowed in abundance on more and more people may cause the thanksgiving to overflow for the glory of God. Therefore, we are not discouraged; rather, although our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this momentary light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to what is seen but to what is unseen; for what is seen is transitory, but what is unseen is eternal. (2 Cor 4:15-18, NAB)

MUSIC FOR THE CELESTIAL DANCE

This music was composed during the months of June and July, 2020. At that time, the hope for a vaccine was far distant, with some saying it might take two years or more. The death toll continued to rise drastically, with the horror of New York City, Boston, and Seattle being repeated in the southern States of Florida, Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, and Texas. The governors of these States were far more concerned about attracting people to spend money in their cities and on their beaches, and dismissing the dead bodies littering the same cities and beaches. The same pictures of refrigerator trucks storing the numerous dead outside of county hospitals in New York City being now replicated in Dallas, Houston, San Antonio, Miami, Tampa Bay, St Petersburg, Atlanta, and so on.

The foolish in my town preferring to believe the false rhetoric of Trump and his cohort, ignored medical science and refused to follow the protocols to keep infections down. The line-up of cars outside the Mayo Clinic filled with families being tested for Covid-19 stretched out of the parking lot and down County Road 37. Helicopters were flying in and out of New Prague, transporting the infected from the small hospital in town to the larger hospitals in the Twin Cities and Rochester.

With death everywhere, the obituaries in the local paper growing larger by the day, it was not hard to think about the Death all around, and my own vulnerability. It was at this time I reread a wonderful poem composed by my favorite Irish poet, William Butler Yeats, entitled “The Fiddler of Dooney.”

When I play on my fiddle in Dooney
Folk dance like a wave of the sea;
My cousin is priest in Kilvarnet,
My brother in Mocharabuiee.

I passed my brother and cousin:
They read in their books of prayer;
I read in my book of songs
I bought at the Sligo fair.

When we come at the end of time
To Peter sitting in state,
He will smile on the three old spirits,
But call me first through the gate;

For the good are always the merry,
Save by an evil chance,
And the merry love the fiddle,
And the merry love to dance:

And when the folk there spy me,
They will all come up to me,
With “Here is the fiddler of Dooney!”
And dance like a wave of the sea.
(The Collected Poems of William Butler Yeats, © 1983, 1989 by Anne Yeats. Macmillan Publishing Company, 866 Third Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10022.)

With the exception of a few Christian faith traditions, many world religions celebrate and incorporate dance into their religious rituals. Holy Scripture speaks numerously of dance accompanied by the sound of timbrels and harps. King David danced naked leading the Ark of the Covenant into the city of Jerusalem. An eternity empty of music and dance, as Yeats pointed out in his poem, would be a very dull and gloomy place.

In the eschatology of William Butler Yeats, the only thing that is important in heaven is that the music allows one the ability to “dance like a wave of the sea.” The music in this collection of Psalm Offerings is meant to reflect the celebratory eschatology of heaven as described by Yeats in his poem. Not all the music in this collection are dances, e.g. Nocturne, Blues, Impromptu (though if one wished, one could dance to these songs). However, the majority of the music is representative of the different musical dance forms throughout Western music history, from the peasant dances of the Middle Ages, the dances of the Royal Court and upper classes of the Baroque, Classical, and Romantic periods, to even the “forbidden” dances like the Tango and Tarantella that were considered too erotic. A Tango can be as sacred as plainchant … and a heck of lot more enjoyable and danceable than plainchant.

Here are the songs in this collection:

Nocturne in F Major (for Mindy and Shane Wescott) As the name implies, Nocturne references the word “night”. In its origin, the word refered to the “night” prayers, specifically Matins of the Liturgy of the Hours. It was later used to imply a form of music primarily for the piano and performed late at night, e.g. 11 p.m. It became very popular in the 19^th century, with Chopin composing 21 Nocturnes. Composers of the 20^th century have also composed Nocturnes. In terms of the poem, it is the gathering of the three old souls, the fiddler and his relative priests, at the gate of heaven.

Estampie in G Minor (for Terry Shaughnessy) The Estampie is a Medieval dance of the 13^th and 14^th centuries, but still is in use in our present time. Early Estampie’s were monophonic, that is just one line melodies with no harmonies. As music evolved, they became more polyphonic (harmonies added).

Blues in C Major (for Pam and Kevin Bailey) The Blues is a form of music that developed out of the work songs, chants, and spirituals that Black Americans sang. There are many forms of Blues, e.g. Delta Blues, St Louis Blues, Chicago Blues, and its influences are found in Folk, Jazz, Rhythm and Blues, and Rock. “The Blues” are often about losses in life, primarily lost love, or women (most Blues singers were men) that were driving the singer crazy. I remember hearing a Blues singer once say that the Blues saved many a man death from suicide. Just singing about how a man was wronged seem to be a way to get the “poison” out of his system and go on with life.

Impromptu in E Major (for Pastor Diane Goulson) As the name implies, an Impromptu gives the impression of being “made up” on the spot. Impromptus have been composed primarily for the piano. Composers such as Chopin, Schumann, Liszt, Faure, and others have composed Impromptus. In terms of a distinctive musical form, since the music is meant to be spontaneous in nature, there is no specific music form for this music.

Sarabande and Gigue (For Al Ahmann) The dance, Sarabande, originated in Latin America where it was known as zarabanda. It was brought to Spain where it was combined Arab influences. Initially it was danced in double lines by couples with castanets and was fast in tempo. It was considered horrifically erotic in nature by the Church and banned in Spain. As Mark Twain once stated, “Sacred cows make the best hamburger”, so it was with the Sarabande and the prohibition by the Church of this dance only made it all the more popular. In the 17^th century, the dance spread to the nations of Italy and France, where it became a slow dance of the Royal courts. Composers like Johann Sebastian Bach, George Friderich Handel, Claude Debussy, and others have composed Sarabandes. As a dance of the court it was often combined with the fast dance, Gigue (or Jig). The music I have composed here resembles that of the Sarabandes and Gigues of the Baroque royal courts.

Tango in F Minor (For  Ruth Wagner) This partner dance that developed around 1880 on the borders of Argentina and Uruguay combines the music dance influences of Africa’s Candombe, the Spanish Habenera, and the Argentinan Milonga. It was largely danced in brothels and bars, and then spread to the world. The sexuality of the dance shocked puritanical North America. Nevertheless, it spread throughout the world in both affluent theater and in the barrios and neighborhoods of the poor. This partner dance that developed around 1880 on the borders of Argentina and Uruguay combines the music dance influences of Africa’s Candombe, the Spanish Habenera, and the Argentinan Milonga. It was largely danced in brothels and bars, and then spread to the world. The sexuality of the dance shocked puritanical North America. Nevertheless, it spread throughout the world in both affluent theater and in the barrios and neighborhoods of the poor.

Polonaise in D Major (For Deacon Rip and Lily Riordan) The Polonaise (French for Polish) is a Polish dance in triple meter. It is one of five Polish national dances. It has a very distinctive rhythm pattern. It was often danced as part of “Carnival” parties (think Mardi Gras, Fat Tuesday) preceding the liturgical season of Lent. Polonaises have been composed for both orchestra and piano by composers as diverse as Johann Sebastian Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, Schubert, Liszt, Schumann, Rimsky-Korsakov, Mussorgsky, Tchaikovsky, and even John Philip Sousa. The composer most noted for the Polonaise was Chopin, who composed at least 23 Polonaises, the first composed at the age of 7 years and the last composed at the age of 36, three years before his death. Chopin composed his Polonaises principally for piano.

Tarantella in B Minor (For Joey Nytes) The Tarantella is one of many fast tempo Italian folk dances in 6/8 meter (think 6 beats a measure with a heavy accent on the 1^st and 3^rd beat (1,2,3  4,5,6). Like the Irish Jig, grouped into two groups of three, it has a feeling of two beats a measure. It derives its name from the spider, Tarantula, whose poisonous bite was thought to bring about a hysterical condition. It was thought that an agitated solo dance, danced up to an hour’s length of time by the victim of a Tarantula bite, had curative powers. However, the Tarantella was also a dance done by couples mimicking courtship. Mandolins, guitars, accordions and tambourines are the instruments used normally for the Tarantella, competing instrumentalists trying to always up the tempo (speed) of the music.

Galop in C Major (For my Dad) The Galop is a fast dance in duple meter (2/4 or 2/2 time) from the 19^th century that was very popular in Europe, especially Vienna. Johann Strauss Jr (The Waltz King) composed a great number of Galops. The Galop is the forerunner of the modern day Polka. A distinct memory from my infancy is the melody of the first two measures of this Galop. When my dad use to walk me at night, he would quietly hum this little motif over and over again, lulling me to sleep. What I did in this Galop was to take this little motif and develop this into this dance. Dad and Mom loved to dance, and they loved to Polka. I thought it appropriate that I took Dad’s melody and turn it into a dance I believe they are fully enjoying in God’s reign.

The Celestial Fiddler (For … myself) I conclude this music collection of dances by a direct referral to Yeat’s “Fiddler of Dooney.” I am a big fan of Irish Traditional music. Traditional Irish music is filled Airs, Jigs, Hornpipes, and Reels. Often when Irish musicians get together they take individual Airs, Jigs, Hornpipes, and Reels, and combine them into a set. The song, “The Celestial Fiddler”, is reminiscent of an Irish set of music, combining a slow Air, with a fast Jig in 6/8 meter, and an equally fast Reel in 2/4 meter.

MUSICAL REFLECTIONS ON A PANDEMIC

This music and the poems that accompanied it were composed beginning the month of August and completed by the end of September, 2020.

The title of the album is a bit off putting. It is reminiscent of a song written by Neil Young on the Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young album entitled “Four Way Street.” Neil Young introduces a song with the words, “Here is a new song that is guaranteed to bring you right down. It is called, ‘Don’t Let It Bring You Down’.” While there are some songs that are somber in nature (with over 500,000 people dead and growing, living through a pandemic is NOT a cakewalk), the majority of the songs are not cloaked in somber tones. People still get married, infants are born, children play with puppies in the yard, adolescent love continues its clumsy exploration, love deepens in couples sheltering in place, and heroism is displayed by all those first responders and medical personnel in our hospitals and clinics. There is plenty of hope to be had in the midst of all the grim news we see, hear, and read in the news.

 I began the composing of this music first by meditating on how this pandemic has affected our lives. This led to the writing of ten poems. The music is programmatic in that it reflects the sentiment expressed in each poem. During the music composing process, I found an interactive relationship between the notes in the score with the words of the poetry. There were times in which the music dictated a change to the text of a poem. Of course, the change in wording would then be reflected in the musical score.

Here are the songs and poems in this collection:

JUXTAPOSITION 1 This song is actually a song in two parts. The first part is a Prelude and the second part a Fugue.

This poem was greatly influenced from the story of my great nephew, Steven’s birth in April. Steven was born at the height of the initial surge of the pandemic in Chicago. As he was being born and drawing the first of many breaths in his life, elsewhere in the same hospital, were those in the ICU Covid-19 wards who were drawing their last breath. In that hospital was the juxtaposition of both the ending of human life and the beginning of human life, with all the feelings of sorrow and grief, and anticipation and joy that accompany these passages of life. The death of people from Covid is represented by the Prelude and the joy of a new baby being born represented by the Fugue.

Prelude for a Dying Loved One
Faces stricken,
painted in grief,
peer through the glass barrier
into the room,
as the ventilator is removed
from a loved one, and
last breaths are expelled.
Mother Earth awaits,
her arms opens to embrace
and cradle her child.

Fugue for a Newborn Infant
Faces, wonderstruck,
painted with excitement,
peer through the doorway,
into the birthing room
as a newborn infant is
laid in a bassinette, and,
the first of many breaths begin.
The child’s mother awaits,
her arms opens to embrace
and cradle her child.

AN ESTAMPIE FOR WOULD BE LOVERS
This is a whimsical poem and song reflecting on the exploration of adolescent love and sexuality. The title of the poem underwent a number of changes from “Deserted Places”, “Empty Lots”, before I finally decided on the present title.

As an adolescent, I had my favorite places in which to, in the parlance of Ruthie’s Aunt Evie, “molly buzz”, or “make out” to describe this activity, largely resulting from the response of raging hormones and adolescent infatuation. The poem is a reflection as to whether the celebrated, secluded “lover lanes” of the past are still being utilized by the adolescents of today and how the pandemic has changed or curtailed the patterns of adolescent sexual exploration. While not endorsing immoral behavior, I am not blind to the fact that adolescents really don’t give a hang as to whether their behavior is moral or immoral as they are experiencing the throes of hormonal excess.

I naively conclude that the present day pandemic has lessened the “near occasions of sin” committed by our present day adolescents, while acknowledging that they are probably still throwing caution to the wind and continuing the long time behaviors of their ancestors.

An Estampie for Would Be Lovers
Ah, those isolated places where once
cars and bodies huddled together,
the “lovers’ lanes”, in which
submarine races were observed
with no winners posted,
“to score”, an abashed innuendo
of conquest and shame.
These secluded spots.
grass trampled down by
blankets and cars,
where sexuality was explored,
car windows fogged over
by the breath of its occupants,
shaky adolescent hands
fumbling with buttons and catches,
a stroke here, a grope there,
an indignant slap leaving its mark
across the cheek of the offending,
and the hickey, the mark of Cain,
adorning the neck of the willing.

Only overgrown grasses now
huddle together with overgrown weeds,
hiding from sight these lots
these lots vacant of humanity
and near occasions of sin.
A pandemic plucks the blossoms
off of young adolescent love.
Social distancing causing
near occasions of sin,
minor and major,
literally out of reach.
The facial mask, the chastity
belt for the lips, thwarting
even the most chaste of kisses.
The buildup of hormones threaten
to burst adolescents asunder.
Confessionals as empty as
hospital maternity wards,
I fear for the propagation
Of the human race.

SONG FOR THE UNKNOWN DEAD

There is an estimated 22,000 deaths from Covid-19 during the first two months of the pandemic in New York City. So many people died alone and unknown, their bodies stacked like cord wood in refrigerator trucks outside the hospitals and then taken to Hart Island to be buried in an unmarked mass grave. As tragic and as frightening as it may be to die alone and unknown, Psalm 139 reassures us that there is one who is present to us and knows our name, namely, the God who loved us into life.

“For it was you,” writes the psalmist, “who formed my inward parts; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; that I know very well. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes beheld my unformed substance. In your book were written all the days that were formed for me, when none of them as yet existed.” (Psalm 139:13-16, NRSV)

The music is composed in the musical form, Variations on a Theme. A musical theme is stated, followed by nine variations on that theme. The variations represent the diversity of the number of people who have died from this pandemic. The final variation is in a major key as God welcomes home those who have died.

SONG FOR THE UNKNOWN DEAD
Variations on a Theme
The pandemic cuts a long swathe
through the human population,
bodies gathered and scattered
through emergency rooms,
intensive care units, and
long lines of refrigerator trucks
patiently waiting its human cargo.
So many dead, many unknown,
Seemingly forgotten by family and friends,
Their funeral, the quiet ride
To a massive pauper’s grave.
Though forgotten by humanity,
not so by the One who loves
and named them at conception.

FROLIC FOR CHILDREN AND PUPPIES

One of the enduring sights during these long months of sheltering in place has been that of our next door neighbors’ 5 year old son frolicking and playing with his puppy in the backyard, totally oblivious to the pandemic that has gripped the nation. Covid-19 does not paralyze this child with fear and foreboding as it does his parents. He, along with many other children, blessedly live in the moment enjoying each moment of the day.

I call this music a frolic, but I suppose it is more accurately in the musical form of a Galop, the forerunner of the Polka.

A FROLIC FOR CHILDREN AND PUPPIES

Rolling bodies,
Grass stained jeans
And shouts, yips, and nips
Punctuate the air
As the child and puppy
Roll in the grass of the yard.
Squirt gun fights,
An unintentional bath,
Painted with frivolity
and water as the
Sound of laughter
And playful taunts,
Fill the air around
The children who chase
And play oblivious
To the invisible moat
That repels the perils
Outside the yard.

JUXTAPOSITION 2: A Berceuse for a Deceased Loved One, and Waltz for a Newlywed Couple.

Like the first song, Juxtaposition 1, Juxtaposition 2 is a song in two parts. The first part is a Berceuse, French for Lullaby, and the second part an exuberant waltz.

In reading the local town newspaper during these months of sheltering in place, the one thing that has remained consistent are the obituaries and the announcements of those who have become engaged and married. Depending on the number of obituaries, the obituaries and announcements of engagements and marriage share the same page. The poem and the music reflect this juxtaposition of death situated alongside new life in the town newspaper.

I used the musical form of the Berceuse, French for a lullaby or cradle song, for the deceased love laid down in the arms of Mother Earth to sleep that eternal sleep. I used the musical form of a joyful wedding Waltz to represent the new life of love a wedding couple embraces.

Here is the poem:

Berceuse for a Deceased Loved One
So many walk,
eyes cast downward,
Draped in black,
Bruised and battered
By the sting of death.
Their loved one placed
Among the community
Of the non-living, who
Will now attend
To their future needs.

Waltz for a Newlywed Couple
Across the town,
Faces lift skyward,
Adorned in white,
Young love’s promises
Dreams to be fulfilled,
And new life generated.
They take their place
In the community
Of the living, who
Will now attend
To their future needs.
Love triumphs over death,
Plucking from death its sting.

SHELTERING IN LOVE: A RHAPSODY FOR RUTHIE
This poem and music reflect the months of sheltering in place that my wife, Ruthie, and I have experienced over the past year. It was first the involuntary isolation at home as the result of some career ending injuries, and then, just as we began to be able to move more freely and easier, the involuntary isolation because of Covid-19. For some, sheltering in place, has come as a great hardship. The loss of work and income, the shortages of needed supplies for the home, the lack of money for food, has led to an increase in poverty, and a rise in domestic violence and substance abuse.

For Ruthie and I, we have been on the blessed end of isolation, finally living what we have dreamed from the time we first courted. Sheltering in place is for us, sheltering in love. I compose this song for Ruthie in the musical form of a Rhapsody.

Here is the poem:

SHELTERING IN LOVE
A Rhapsody for Ruth
When we were courting,
I was impatient for the time
When the culmination of
Our evening together would
Not end at the doorstep
Of your aunt and uncle’s house.
I longed with the lover
In “Wouldn’t It Be Nice”
Our night’s embrace ending
Only in the light of a new morn.

In the bliss of newly married life,
The foolish belief that my longing
Forever fulfilled, was revealed
as much a dream as when we dated.
Our children’s births, that great
Unknown during courting,
The time and expense children
requires, shredded my dream.
Our time away from each other
Out numbering our time together,
Long days at work for me, and
Long nights at work for you,
As we sought to provide
For our growing family.

It is paradoxical, that it took
Work ending injuries and
A pandemic, a plague,
In which the longing of my
Youth would be fulfilled.
The daily tasks that fill
Human lives for nourishment,
Environment and safe shelter,
Sitting in our chairs, working
Crosswords, and word games,
Cheering and cursing politicians,
Every moment together, a
realized moment of tremendous grace.

After fifty-one years of longing
That our evening’s embrace
Would stretch through the night
Into the morning’s light
Finally, after all these years,
“Wouldn’t It Be Nice” is transformed
into “Oh, How It Is Nice!”

FEAST OF FOOLS: A PANDEMIC DANSE MACABRE

Historically, the Feast of Fools was celebrated principally in Northern France around the beginning of January in the Middle Ages. It often mocked Roman Catholic clergy and liturgical rites, with the crowd of people electing their own “bishop and pope”. It is thought to have been derived from the pagan Saturnalia that had been celebrated prior to Christianity. Needless to say, the medieval Church roundly condemned the blasphemous extravagances of the celebration.

During the time of the Bubonic Plague, also known as the Black Death, in medieval Europe, roughly, 1346 to 1353, it is estimated that over a million people died. In much of the literature of that time, life was so precarious that many adopted the attitude of “live, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow you die.” This is a phrase adapted from Isaiah 22, in which God has called for Israel to fast and repentance only to find the people of Israel instead ignoring God and eating and drinking to excess. In verse 13 and 14 of that chapter, we read, “there was joy and festivity, killing oxen and slaughtering sheep, eating meat and drinking wine. “Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die.” The Lord of hosts has revealed himself in my ears: Surely this iniquity will not be forgiven you until you die, says the Lord God of hosts. (Isaiah 22:13-14, NRSV).

Things have not changed much over the centuries. In the midst of so much suffering and death during our present pandemic, we still have our pandemic deniers, not practicing safe distance and wearing facial masks, crowding on our beaches, our bars, restaurants, theaters, and political rallies. After each of these occurrences the rate of infection and death rises precipitously. These are literally our present day “Feast of Fools”.  I would see graduation parties in my hometown in which no one practiced safe distance and wore masks, and then find the next day the line-up of cars outside the Mayo Clinic as families were tested for the Covid-19 infection.

The poem and the music reflect the deadly folly of our present day “Feast of Fools”.

Here is the poem:

THE FEAST OF FOOLS: A Pandemic Danse Macabre

“Eat, drink, and be merry,”
the cry goes out,
as the party ensues.
Unsteady bodies, alcohol impeded
joints and limbs, numbed
commonsense, as they
dance, fornicate, and drink,
unknowing or ignoring
the Black Spectre of Death
who peers at these simpletons
through its beaked-face mask,
patiently awaiting the moment
its sharpened blade makes
its downward journey
upon the necks of the partying.

One would think,
armed with historical fact,
the simpletons of today
would have learned
from the deaths of close
to four hundred million
human lives, who chose
to dance in drunken abandon
beneath the blade of the
Beaked-faced, Middle Age demon.
Stupidity, as infectious as the plague,
the one human constant
throughout the ages,
dooming the dimwitted
to foolishly dare pandemic demons
to strike them down.
Brazen stupidity will not
save them from fact.
The grim Beak-faced Spectre
grins at their challenge
sharpens its ax,
… and strikes.

MARCH OF THE SOLITARY SENTRY

Sheltering in place has caused many of us to think of our homes as our fortress, our only defense against an invisible, deadly foe. Even after an enforced shelter at home order was lifted, many of us, especially those of us who are most vulnerable, self-isolate ourselves in our homes. Because of those who are in complete denial that a pandemic exists, we cannot trust others to act responsibly. This tragic self-centeredness and selfishness on the part of the pandemic deniers forces the rest of us to live in isolation in order to just survive.

We take on the role of the sentry, guarding our homes and ourselves from the invisible, deadly enemy that has caused the deaths of so many people throughout our nation and throughout our world.

The poem and the music reflect this martial role that we have now assumed in response to the pandemic.

Here is the poem:

MARCH OF A SOLITARY SENTRY

The well, worn carpet
Underneath our windows
Of our sentry post,
Through which we peer
Into the unknown
For a spectral hand,
Invisible to the human eye,
Our hearts and spirits
As anxious and worn
As the carpet worn smooth
Underneath our feet.

The fear of that hand,
Knowing that its
bony touch goes
Undetected as it strokes
The face of its victims,
Robbing scent from
The nostrils,
Transforming bodies
into over-heated ovens
of those it condemns.

Our homes, a sanctuary,
A respite from the terror,
And, yet, our place
Of solitary confinement.
we peer out
through the bars
Of our windows
For the invisible enemy
As the days evolve
Into weeks and months,
Thwarting this invisible
Enemy, armed only
With a cloth face mask
And hand sanitizer,
We wait for reprieve.

A NOCTURNE FOR OUR MEDICAL HEROES

This is a time in which we need heroes more than ever. This is a time as desperate as other times in our nation’s history. When we look for our heroes to come from our political leaders, especially our leaders on the Federal level, we find only narcissists, the greedy, and fools in charge. What the pandemic has revealed is that the heroes of our age are neither political nor military. Rather, the heroes  of our present time are dressed in EMT uniforms, the scrubs of doctors, nurses, medical technicians and other personnel, and cleaning staff.

Their weaponry does not consist of bandoliers of weapons designed to end human life, but rather their weapons consist of compassion, care, knowledge, skill, and love. The command of Jesus in John 15 to “love one another as I have loved you,” is their marching order. “There is so greater love than to lay down one’s life for a friend”, Jesus says to his disciples before he leaves for the Kidron Valley and to his arrest and execution. Our heroes today are so giving of themselves, that many have laid down their lives as a result of their love and care for so many who are suffering.

This music, a Nocturne for Our Medical Heroes, reflects the great love, compassion and self-giving of our present day heroes.

Here is the poem:

A NOCTURNE FOR OUR MEDICAL HEROES

Literature is filled
With narratives of
Individual and collective
Acts of heroism.
The shining armor
Of righteous knights,
The Robin Hoods’
Of world history,
Bandolier draped chests,
Fighting a heartless
World that preys
Upon the powerless
Trapped in poverty.

We search the horizon
For visions of soldiers
Bravely raising a flag
On an embattled hill.
We seek for leadership
In an absentee government,
To find only a vapid vacuum
Of intelligence, draped
In self-indulgence.
and corruption,
spreading as easily
and as deadly,
as the pestilence that
is killing humanity.

“Where are our heroes?”
Where is the new Moses
To rise among us,
To protect and lead
Us from our wandering
In this desert of death.
One, for whom the good
Of the many out weighs
Personal ambition
And self-gain?
To whom can we
Entrust our lives,
And the lives
Of those we love?

Rescuers arrive,
Draped in the soft cloth
Of medical scrubs,
EMT uniforms,
Armed only with
Bandoliers of compassion,
Love, and self-less service
And a stethoscope,
A mask and face shield.
Their hearts emblazoned
With the words,
“There is no greater love
Than to lay down
One’s life for a friend,”

HYMN TO OUR GOD OF MANY FACES

During this time of tribalism, politically and religiously, it is easy to think only in terms of us and them, and that God is only on our side and absent from the side of all our opponents. In a time of Blue and Red political differences, I know well the feeling of taking sides. I wonder out loud how anyone could claim that God is on the side of those holding an opposing viewpoint from my own. Then, I remember the words of Abraham Lincoln. Abraham Lincoln is reported to have said to an outspoken opponent of the Confederacy, “The question is not whether God is on our side or not. The question is whether we are on the side of God.”

We like to think in dualistic absolutes, e.g. the good, the bad, and black and white. For God, there are no dualistic absolutes. I remember listening to a Jewish rabbi describing the scene in Exodus in which the Egyptian Pharoah and his army are drowned in the Red Sea. In Exodus, Miriam and the women begin to sing a song of victory as the destruction of their slave owners and opponents. The rabbi described that in the Talmud, a different scene is painted. Angels approach God and say that God must be happy that the enemies of God’s Chosen People had been destroyed. They notice God is weeping and ask why God is crying. God replies, “The Egyptians are my people, too.”

This hymn and this song’s inspiration is derived from the first and second chapter of Isaiah.

In the first chapter, God is castigating the elders of Judah for their corruption, their greed, and their utter disregard of the poor and the vulnerable of their society. “Trample my courts no more; bringing offerings is futile; incense is an abomination to me. New moon and sabbath and calling of convocation— I cannot endure solemn assemblies with iniquity. Your new moons and your appointed festivals my soul hates; they have become a burden to me, I am weary of bearing them. When you stretch out your hands, I will hide my eyes from you; even though you make many prayers, I will not listen; your hands are full of blood. Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean; remove the evil of your doings from before my eyes; cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow. (Isaiah 1:12b-17, NRSV)

In the second chapter, Isaiah paints an eschatological vision of what will be, when all nations united with their enemies approach the mountain of God, ascend, and sit at the feet of God. God will teach them the ways of God’s peace and justice in which all weapons will be destroyed and turned into plows and pruning hooks and war will be destroyed for ever. That segment ends with the promise, “come, let us walk in the light of the Lord!”

The hymn acknowledges the truth that all people of our world, regardless of nation, culture, religion or non-religion, are children of God. God does not just wear one face, but wears the faces of ALL God’s children. This is the vision I hold before me during this time of great acrimony and division.

As you listen to the music, it starts out like a typical church hymn, than segues into another melody, before it segues again into a variation of the hymn, then segues again into another melody before concluding with a final variation on the hymn. Yes, you can sing the text of the hymn to the music, especially as it is played at the beginning and the end of the song.

Here is the text of the hymn:

HYMN TO OUR GOD OF MANY FACES

God of many names and faces,
Hymns of how our lives interlace
With you, whom we have known
And think of you as ours alone.

Our rituals, doors to our salvation?
Incense, music, food oblations,
Cultic gestures, words, and symbols,
Is this Salvation for the lazy and simple?

Truth be told, O God omnipotent,
Our feeble rituals sadly impotent,
Until we love all people on earth
To whom your love has given birth.

For every people, culture, nation
You equally love and grant salvation,
Our foes, our lives, you equally cherish,
And grieve the deaths of all who perish.

Truth be told, O God omnipotent,
Our feeble rituals sadly impotent,
Until we love all people on earth
To whom your love has given birth.

O God of many names and faces,
All human life your love graces,
Transform into flesh our hearts of stone,
For you are flesh of our flesh, and bone of our bone.

In the Deuterocanonical Book of Baruch (note: Baruch was a companion to Jeremiah, who accompanied Jeremiah into Egypt and reportedly died there), we hear Baruch addressing the Jews in the Diaspora, during the Babylonian Captivity. Baruch tells them not to live in despair, but to cast off the veil of despondency that covers them. Why? Because God will clothe them in glory and return them to their native land of Judah. All of the earth will behold that they are God’s beloved. In a passage that mirrors that of 2^nd Isaiah 40, God will go before leveling mountains and filling in gorges so that their journey home will be done with ease with no obstacle in their path.

In Luke’s Gospel, John the Baptist is introduced as the one who will make the way smooth and guide them to the salvation of God. John’s message is clear, namely, that people are not condemned to live trapped in misery, powerless to free themselves from sin. John introduces the people that they are empowered to change their lives. Instead of lives of fatalism in which outside forces control their destiny, John tells them that they have control over their own destiny.

During this Advent, how do we find ourselves. Do we feel trapped, not unlike the Jewish people in the Diaspora by the circumstances over which we believe we have no control? Do we find ourselves, like those whom John the Baptist addressed, held captive by whatever sin dominates our lives? Or do we find ourselves, like John the Baptist, one through whom God tells people that we are not condemned to live trapped but are offered freedom by God to live lives of hope and joy? No matter where we find ourselves this Advent, we are told to be hopeful, to place our despondency and fatalism aside, for God loves us and desires to heal the brokenness of our lives so that we can be free, happy, and at peace.

Readings for the Second Sunday in Advent:

Bar 5:1-9

Jerusalem, take off your robe of mourning and misery;
    put on the splendor of glory from God forever:
wrapped in the cloak of justice from God,
    bear on your head the mitre
    that displays the glory of the eternal name.

For God will show all the earth your splendor:
    you will be named by God forever
    the peace of justice, the glory of God’s worship.

Up, Jerusalem! stand upon the heights;
    look to the east and see your children
gathered from the east and the west
    at the word of the Holy One,
    rejoicing that they are remembered by God.
Led away on foot by their enemies they left you:
    but God will bring them back to you
    borne aloft in glory as on royal thrones.
For God has commanded
    that every lofty mountain be made low,
and that the age-old depths and gorges
    be filled to level ground,
    that Israel may advance secure in the glory of God.
The forests and every fragrant kind of tree
    have overshadowed Israel at God’s command;
for God is leading Israel in joy by the light of his glory,
    with his mercy and justice for company.

Lk 3:1-6

In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar, 
when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, 
and Herod was tetrarch of Galilee,
and his brother Philip tetrarch of the region
of Ituraea and Trachonitis, 
and Lysanias was tetrarch of Abilene, 
during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, 
the word of God came to John the son of Zechariah in the desert.
John went throughout the whole region of the Jordan, 
proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, 
as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah:
    A voice of one crying out in the desert:
    “Prepare the way of the Lord,
        make straight his paths.
    Every valley shall be filled
        and every mountain and hill shall be made low.
    The winding roads shall be made straight,
        and the rough ways made smooth,
    and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”

With the opening liturgy of Advent, a new liturgical season begins. In hearing the Gospel from the Feast of Christ the King (last Sunday) and hearing the Gospel for today, you have probably noticed it to be the same Gospel only written by a different evangelist. So why begin Advent by looking at the “End of the World”? Is not Advent about remembering the incarnation of Christ in the person of Jesus at Christmas?

The answer is yes and no.

THE SEASONS OF ADVENT AND CHRISTMAS

The Seasons of Advent and Christmas are about the incarnation of Jesus, however, with a different and distinct emphasis. Advent is really about our preparing for the End Times, when Jesus comes again and all of life is subsumed into the wholeness of God. As Christians we look in eager anticipation for this cosmic event when all of Creation is made right. However, as we look to this coming of Jesus in all cosmic glory, we remember the humble beginning of Christ in Jesus at his birth in the stable of Bethlehem, when the Christ, through whom all life was created, lived in solidarity among the poorest of the poor of Creation.

For the many years I directed liturgy and music, I was looking for hymns that expressed the true theology of Advent. Let’s face it, it is easy to liturgically over dose on the O Antiphons, as found in the chant, measured or not measured, “O Come, O Come Emmanuel.” For those who have been sentenced to sing this chant ad nauseum all four weeks of Advent, you almost wish to experience the end of the world. (Note: the O Antiphons are found liturgically in the Liturgy of the Hours, Evening Prayer, beginning on December 17th … not before December 17th).

There are many Advent hymns, “People Look East”, “O Come Divine Messiah”, and so forth, that are really focused not on the second coming of the Christ, but on the first coming of Christ in the person of Jesus.

As I reflected on the readings for this first Sunday of Advent, the liturgical musician in me sought out what might be a good Advent Hymn to express what this liturgical season is all about. The answer might surprise some people. It is the wonderful gathering hymn, composed by Marty Haugen many years ago, entitile, “Gather Us In.”

GATHER US IN

Now Catholic traditionalists, will probably cross themselves three times, and give me the evil eye for even suggesting this. Catholic traditionalists hate this hymn. They base their loud objections because the name “God” is not explicitly sung anywhere in the hymn, even though the word “God” though not in the third person, is really expressed in the second person (think of the word “you” as expressed to the person of God).

What traditionalists and restorationists ignore is that the hymn is about the “REAL PRESENCE OF JESUS” gathered together in the assembly of the baptized. We, who are the baptized, ARE also the real presence of the Christ, as the apostle Paul said over and over and over and over again in his letters. Whenever Paul used the word Christ, he was referring to the real presence of Christ in the Christian community.

What I would like to focus on is the fourth verse of the hymn. These is the hymn text that Marty Haugen wrote in the fourth verse.

“Not in the dark of buildings confining,
not is some heaven light years away.
But here in this place, new light is streaming,
Now is the Kingdom, Now is the day!

“Gather us in, and hold us together.
Gather us in and make us your own.
Gather us in all peoples together,
Fire of love in our flesh and our bone.”

If we truly believe that those baptized into Christ ARE the real presence of Christ in the world, our lives will be lived in making the reality of God’s Reign, already present, visible to all people around us. We are called to be already living in Reign of God already here, already present. If we truly believe that the Reign of God is fully present right now in our present time, we will live lives that are holy, lives that are not self-centered, lives that are not selfish, lives that are lived in service to others, lives of peace and justice, lives that recognize that ALL life is Sacred and reflect the real presence of God.

That is how Advent is meant to be lived. That is how we best anticipate and bring forth the living Christ to all people as we remember the birth of the Christ in the person of Jesus at Christmas.

About a week ago, I posted on Facebook that in going through some totes at home, I found some cards that my sister, Mary Ruth, sent me. Below is the message Mary Ruth wrote to Ruthie and I in February of 1988, 9 years before her death. At the time she wrote the card to us, she had almost died during a very long surgery. I remember her telling me that her internist had told her that he wished she had terminal cancer, because her suffering would be less. He told her that she would probably live another 10 years, and those years would be very, very difficult for her. Much of what he said ended up true. I am SO thankful that I have found her card to Ruthie and I.

As you read Mary’s message to Ruthie and I, she states an important truth. In the end, death does not kill a person. The body may die, but the person does not die. It is impossible for Death to sever the bond of love that exists between people. The bond of love we share with others lasts into eternity. When Mary writes that she will be with us in this world or the next, she is speaking the truth. I remember at her Vigil Service, her internist, who was an admitted agnostic, saying to me, that Mary is finally standing tall and healthy, freed from the illness that crippled her life so much. Of that, I am certain.

BACKGROUND

Mary Ruth was sick with Crohn’s disease long before they had a name and a treatment for it. From the time she was 15 years old to her death at 42 years old in 1997, she was in and out of the hospital sometimes 3 or 4 times a year.

She had multiple surgeries gradually cutting out diseased sections of her small intestine and then resectioning the remainder. At the end of her life, the 30 feet of small intestine we all have was reduced to just 3 feet for Mary. The only way she could receive nutrients was through hyperalimentation, a kind of tube feeding that delivers nutrients. The side effect of hyperalimentation is that it robs all the calcium from a person’s bones. At the time of her death, Mary suffered from osteoporosis so severely that she was bent over, and her bones so brittle that coughing would cause her to break a rib.

In spite of her disease and all the many surgeries, Mary Ruth received a B.S. in occupational therapy at the College of St Catherine’s. She was a sought after occupational therapist, specializing in working with those in cardiac care. After her illness forced her to go on disability, she continued to learn, earning a Master’s Degree at the University of St Thomas, and, at the time of her death, working on a Doctorate. In addition to her education, Mary Ruth was an exceptional artist and created a series of greeting cards that were sold in the Roseville area of the Twin Cities.

THE MESSAGE SHE WROTE IN HER CARD

“Dearest Bob and Ruth,

“I want to thank you for being at my side and at the folk’s side during the latest ordeal. You both have always been there for me and I greatly appreciate it.

“The gorgeous music box brought me much comfort during the long and lonely nights. All your visits were great and did much for my psyche.

“Most of all, Bob, I want to thank you for my gorgeous song. As you saw, it brought tears to my eyes. It’s really beautiful and I am touched by the sound and touched because of the love you shared writing it. I’m so very lucky to have 2 songs written by you. You truly have the gift.

“I don’t think I’m worthy of such beauty, but I still thank you from the bottom of my heart.

“I also wanted to thank you for taking the time to talk to me on that most difficult day. It takes a lot of courage for you and the folks to let me control my destiny. The MD’s have told me so many times that I was dying and then I didn’t. Part of me says the fight isn’t worthy it anymore, the other side says your work isn’t finished yet.

“I’ve always hoped and prayed that I could grow up with you and Ruth and the kids. Whether I do or not, spiritually, I’ll always be by your side whether in this world or part of the next. I promise I’ll never leave your sides.

“I love you all so deeply. I can never repay all your kindnesses and love you’ve sent my way but I’ll keep trying.

“Thank you all for your specialness and all your sharing of self.

I’m so proud to say to everyone that you’re my family.

Much, much love, kisses and hugs,

Mary”

I am so thankful this Thanksgiving in rediscovering this message from my sister, Mary. Even though twenty-four Thanksgivings have passed since her death, I miss her as much as I did that first Thanksgiving following her death. As time passes, I find that she was right about being at my side. In some ways, I feel her nearer and more present to me than ever. Happy Thanksgiving Mary Ruth!

Like so many others, I was shocked and angered at the acquittal of Kyle Rittenhouse this past Friday. I was equally upset with the behavior of the judge, who seemed to be overwhelming prejudiced in favor of Rittenhouse. The bottom line remains, this seventeen year old kid, crossed State lines with an AR-15 semiautomatic weapon, open fired on three unarmed men, killing two of them, and severely injuring the third. Regardless of the position of the judge, who refused to allow the prosecution to call the men Rittenhouse shot and killed, “victims”, it is clear that the deceased and Mr Grosskerutz ARE victims of extreme violence. For Rittenhouse to walk away without any repercussions for his actions is a gross miscarriage of justice. For Rittenhouse to be praised and lauded by the “gun gods” of our nation as an example of American justice, including members of Congress, is not only vile, disgusting and scandalous,  but it is extremely dangerous.

SOCIAL IMPLICATIONS

America’s Idolatry of Gun and Violence

The worship of guns in our nation is very disturbing. It is one thing to own a shotgun or a deer rifle for hunting, it is another thing to own weapons that have no other purpose than to destroy human life. The relaxation of gun laws in our nation has effectively declared “an open hunting season” on all human life. The proliferation of military grade weapons with white outrage, white privilege and vigilantism, and the belief that in owning a such a destructive weapon the owner elevates his testosterone to compensate for an apparent lack of male sexual deficiency (remember the old military axiom, “This is my rifle, this is my gun. This is for shooting, this is for fun.”), we have the perfect storm for an increase of death and destruction in our nation, in our states, in our communities, and in our neighborhoods.

Owning and Firing Gun as a False Rite of Passage.

Rittenhouse, an immature, 17 year old overly indulgent adolescent (some might call a brat) with an over-inflated ego and bravado, believed that in his wielding a AK-15, he would, single-handedly, restore justice in Kenosha, Wisconsin. He also falsely believed that in hanging this dangerous weapon around his neck and parading through the streets of Kenosha, he would somehow undergo some “rite of passage” that would transform him from being a little boy into becoming a “man”. His own testimony on the witness stand illustrated far too clearly how false this “rite of passage” was. When confronted with the crime he committed and finally cognizant of the possibility of a long prison term he could face, he broke down and “cried like a baby”, revealing to the world that he remains a very vulnerable, scared, little boy.  

The Elevation of Rittenhouse as a Gun “Patriot”.

More disturbing and destructive for Rittenhouse is in being acquitted of the crime he committed, he remains clueless as to the tremendous harm his irresponsible act of stupidity and bravado has caused, not only destroying the lives of his victims and their families, but, also, how destructive his acquittal is to justice being accomplished in the United States. This is made significantly worse in his being elevated, lauded, and worshipped by the gun lobby, and those in Congress who have sold their souls to the gun lobby; paraded about as some kind of patriotic gun god who embodies the soul of the United States. If Rittenhouse is foolish enough to believe the chum bait these enemies of justice are flinging at him, he will only sink lower as human being, never maturing into becoming a just, responsible, adult male.

RELIGIOUS RESPONSE TO SENSELESS ACTS OF VIOLENCE AND INJUSTICE

What is the Christian response to all this gun violence that is ripping apart not only the bodies of those killed and injured, but ripping apart the lives of the victims’ families, and our communities?

Reciprocal Justice and Hammurabi’s Code

I acknowledge within myself, and all of humanity, a visceral response of anger to injustice. When someone commits a crime, we all feel this urge to “get even” for the wrongs committed by the one we perceive as guilty. Our response of reciprocity is best expressed by the television police detective, Barreta, who was fond of saying, “When you do the crime, you gotta to do the time.” This visceral response goes back as far back as ancient Ur (the city from which Abraham came), in a code of law issued by the Sumerian ruler Ur-Nammu, who in the twenty-first century B.C.E., first established a law of retribution for criminal acts. This was later codified by Hammurabi two centuries later as an “Eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth,” and, later adopted and codified into Hebrew law (Exodus 21:22-24 and Leviticus 24:19-21). Literally, this code of law said that if one plucks out the eye of another, the injured party has the right to pluck out the eye of his attacker.

God as a God of Retribution

This, sadly, is also reflective in how God is perceived as a God of retribution. In the Hebrew Scriptures, the behavior of God toward those in opposition was very retributive. When the Hebrew Prophet, Miriam, who was Moses’ sister, objected to her brother Moses’ seemingly lack of concern for the welfare of the Israelites, God punished her severely by inflicting upon her a disease that disfigured her and ostracized her from the Israelite community. Moses was similarly treated with harsh retribution by God in striking the Rock at Meribah, instead of just speaking to the Rock. For this seemingly minor breach of behavior, Moses was condemned by God to die and never enter the Promised Land.

The Pentateuch is filled with stories of a very vengeful God of retribution, from the fiery destruction of the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, the Great Flood that drowned all but Noah and his family and those animals he rescued, asps sent to bite and kill people who opposed God, and so on.

God as a terrible Judge

Our human perception of God as a terrible judge of retribution has carried over to Christianity. All one has to do is read the text of the hymn, “Dies Irae”, from the old Catholic Requiem Masses, to experience the very human belief of a God who demands fierce retribution from those who are in opposition to God, regardless as to how minor or major an offense is committed.

Here is a portion of the long text of this hymn once sung at the end of a funeral Mass.

Day of wrath! O day of mourning!
Heaven and earth in ashes burning!
oh, what fear man’s bosom rendeth,
When from heaven the Judge descendeth,

On whose sentence all dependeth.
All before the throne it bringeth.
All creation is awaking,
To its Judge an answer making.

Worthless are my prayers and sighing,
Yet, good Lord, in grace complying,
Rescue me from fires undying. …
With Thy sheep a place provide me,

From the goats afar divide me,
To Thy right hand do Thou guide me.
When the wicked are confounded,
Doomed to flames of woe unbounded,

Call me with Thy saints surrounded.
Low I kneel, with heart’s submission,
See, like ashes, my contrition,
Help me in my last condition.

Needless to say, this is the stuff of horrific nightmares for Catholic kids, such as I, 60 years ago, who had to sing these verses at Latin Requiem Masses (of course, we sang Requiem Masses to get out of school). If one thinks this is just isolated to Catholicism, one is gravely mistaken. The “righteous retribution of God” is the stuff of much “Hell fire and damnation” sermons spouted at the services of ALL Christian denominations.

Is it any wonder that with a human visceral response of retribution combined with a religious understanding of God as a bloodthirsty God of Vengeance for wrong acts, that Christianity has been as viciously cruel in its response to perceived human grievances? People burned at the stake on the part of ALL Christian denominations, executions by being hung, drawn, and quartered, the torturous devices of Medieval Europe (e.g. the Iron Maiden), the torture of the Spanish Inquisition and so on, is only reflective of a widely accepted perception of the nature of God as a God of Wrath, and God as a Terrible Judge.

Perceived Righteous Reciprocity in our Entertainments
Of course, this human idea of vengeful reciprocity is not just isolated to religion but is very much present in our entertainments. Do not audiences cheer when Rambo eviscerates the “bad guys” with bursts of machine gun fire, Dirty Harry practices his own vigilante justice toward a serial killer with his 45 caliber weapon at close range, and the good, old boys from Lethal Weapon movies shoot, strangle and blow up their enemies. Violent reciprocation for injustice is not only accepted but lauded by many as Divinely instituted. Yet, in the midst of the horror and carnage of the American Civil War, Abraham Lincoln was very cautious as to the Union’s relationship to God. When someone once confidently proclaimed that God was on the side of the Union, Lincoln responded, “It’s not a question of whether God is on our side, but, rather if we are on the side of God.”

Exposing violent retribution for what it truly is rare in our modern entertainments.

WHAT DOES JESUS TEACH US

In the four canonical Gospels, Jesus erases the Hebrew Scriptures image of God as a God of retribution and violence. Rather, Jesus reveals God as a God of love, a God in love with ALL creation. Following the Beatitudes in Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, Jesus abdicates the Mosaic law with a new commandment.

“You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I say to you, offer no resistance to one who is evil. When someone strikes you on (your) right cheek, turn the other one to him as well. If anyone wants to go to law with you over your tunic, hand him your cloak as well. Should anyone press you into service for one mile, go with him for two miles. Give to the one who asks of you, and do not turn your back on one who wants to borrow. (Mt 5:38-42, NAB)

“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your heavenly Father, for he makes his sun rise on the bad and the good, and causes rain to fall on the just and the unjust. For if you love those who love you, what recompense will you have? Do not the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet your brothers only, what is unusual about that? Do not the pagans do the same? So be perfect, just as your heavenly Father is perfect. (Mt 5:43-48, NAB)

Upon being crucified, Jesus did not call on God to destroy those who were torturing him and executing him. Rather, Jesus calls out to God from the cross, “Father, forgive them, they know not what they do.” (Lk 23:34, NAB) As we read here, Jesus calls upon God to love and to forgive the very people who plotted his death, betrayed him, and executed him.

Clearly, the portrayal of the vengeful, angry God in the Hebrew Scriptures is revealed to be an inaccurate portrayal by the teachings of Jesus, who we, as Christians, believe is the Logos, the Word of God, and the Son of God.

How do we, as Christians, hold people accountable for their crimes?
The Christian response to crime and grievances, is not retribution. Rather, the Christian response to crime and grievances is restorative justice.

Rittenhouse tried for the crime of firing upon and killing these men was found not guilty. He did not receive a jail sentence for the horrific violence he perpetuated upon citizens of Kenosha. Would the reciprocal justice of Rittenhouse serving 10, 15, 20 years of jail time alter the behavior of Rittenhouse? We will never know. However, Rittenhouse walking away from his crime, without being held accountable for his behavior, guarantees that he will not alter his behavior. What is needed and what was lacking at the trial of Rittenhouse was “restorative justice.”

In the biographical movie of Ron Kovic, “Born on the Fourth of July”, we see a form of restorative justice. Ron Kovic enlists in the Marines and does two tours of duty in Vietnam. He is involved in a kind of Mi Lai massacre, and retreats with his unit following the massacre. During the retreat, Kovic accidentally kills Wilson, a member of his own platoon. He reports to his commanding officer that he was responsible for the death of Wilson. He is told by his commanding officer to cover it up and forget about it. Shortly after, Kovic is critically wounded in a firefight, ending up paralyzed from the chest down. What follows for Kovic is a long tale of redemption, and culminates when he goes to the grave site of Wilson, the man he had accidentally killed. Following this visit to the gravesite, he goes and confesses his guilt in the death of Wilson to Wilson’s parents and widow. While Wilson’s widow is unable to forgive Kovic, Wilson’s parents do forgive him.

In the movie, “Schindler’s List”, we also see a form of restorative justice when Schindler, a war profiteer, sells all of his possession to save the lives of the Jews who work as prison labor in his factory. And while not guilty of any crime, in the movie, “Forrest Gump”, we see Forrest, suddenly very wealthy as a shrimper, take half of his wealth he has gained and gives it to the family of his best friend, Bubba, who had been killed in Vietnam. It was Bubba who suggested to Forrest that they go in the shrimping business.

Probably one of the most striking stories of restorative justice, is one of Mahatma Gandhi’s words to an Indian Hindu man. At a time of great violent fighting between Muslim and Hindu factions in India, a Hindu man came to Gandhi crying and feeling hopeless. He told Gandhi that he killed a Muslim boy. When Gandhi asked him why he did such a deed, the man responded by saying it was because Muslims killed his little son. Gandhi said to him, that in order to heal his soul, the man must go and find a boy whose parents had been killed. He was to raise the boy as his own son. He told the Hindu man, “Make sure you find a Muslim boy and raise him as a Muslim! Then your soul will live again.”

Restorative Justice for Kyle Rittenhouse
Redemption for Kyle Rittenhouse can be found only in an act of restorative justice. If Rittenhouse truly wants to undergo a rite of passage into manhood, he needs to do the following acts of restorative justice.

First, he must throw away his guns and a life style that believes that gun violence and gun justice is the only way to achieve justice in the United States.

Secondly, and most importantly, he must make restitution to the families of the two men he slayed, and to the man and his family who he critically wounded. The restitution can begin by his falling to his knees and asking forgiveness of the families of the victims he killed and wounded.

This must be followed by a lifelong promise and commitment to serve the families of those he killed and critically wounded. Using the Code of Hammurabi as a metaphor, instead of “sacrificing his eyes” for the eyes he plucked out, restoratively, he must become the eyes and serve those whose eyes he plucked out. The lives of those he slew cannot be restored. However, he can serve the families of those he slew in their absence.

The purpose of Rittenhouse’s life changed when he shot and killed these men. His life can no longer be spent in serving his own selfish interests. He sacrificed that when he pulled the trigger that killed and wounded these men. His purpose in life must now be devoted to the survivors of those he killed and injured. It is in doing this that Rittenhouse will make his rite of passage into true manhood.

Since the judge and the jury refused to hold Rittenhouse accountable for his crime, Rittenhouse must now hold himself accountable, for that will be the only way that he will be able to heal his soul. The path for a just life for Rittenhouse is clear. If he refuses to do this, he will never be free from the ghosts of those he slew. They will follow him and haunt him for the rest of his life.

This solemnity once was simply known as the Solemnity of Christ the King. It seems in more recent times to take on the longer title … bringing to my mind that Jesus Christ is now a member of the Marvel Universe of super heroes. However, before we begin to envision Jesus Christ as a Marvel super hero, heavily muscular, dressed in bright colored leotards with a big JC emblazoned on his chest, we need to unpack all the images, religious and those influenced by social media of Jesus the Christ. My approach to this is from the alternative theological orthodoxy of St. Francis of Assisi.

Liturgically, this solemnity marks the end of the Catholic liturgical year, and the beginning of the new liturgical year next weekend as we celebrate the First Sunday of Advent. That being said, what does it mean to entitle Jesus Christ as Lord and King of the Universe?

Viewing this feast through the eyes and the mind of Francis of Assisi, gives us a wonderful insight into the feast.

The Alternative Orthodoxy of Francis of Assisi

The theology of Francis of Assisi saw the incarnation of Jesus not as one that was redemptive. Jesus did not come to atone for sin. God did not need a blood sacrifice in order to love what God created. The purpose of Jesus was to reveal that God loves us inherently for who we are. There is no exclusion in the theology of Francis of Assisi, but rather inclusion. Jesus was born among the poor in a stable, and that that alone revealed to humanity that we were already redeemed. The inclusivity of Jesus is revealed in that he lived among those despised, those most hated, and served them, teaching them that God loved them regardless of their imperfections. The most revealing sign of the inclusiveness of God’s love is Jesus’ solidarity with all of humanity, even being executed alongside criminals.

The First Incarnation of the Christ

In the theology of Francis of Assisi, and the Franciscan theologians, Bonaventure and Duns Scotus, the first incarnation did not occur at the birth of Jesus, but rather at the very beginning of the universe, created over 5 billion years ago. This is supported in the Prologue of John’s Gospel (the Gospel of the Day on Christmas and regretfully, rarely if ever proclaimed at Christmas), in which it was through the Logos or Word of God (think Jesus) that all life began, God’s breath (think Ruach, the female tense of God’s Spirit) breathing life into that which was created. Essentially from that very moment, the DNA of Christ, God the Word, was imprinted in ALL which was created, both animate and inanimate. In other words, all created things, be it a rock, vegetable, animal, and human, bear the living image of God. Period! This theology explains the behavior of Francis of Assisi who addressed all of Creation as Brother or Sister (see The Canticle of the Creatures, or Canticle of the Sun), and could be found removing earth worms from the path of horses’ hooves on the highways and byways of Assisi. It also explains why Franciscans are and must be people of non-violence and environmentalists. Quite simply how can we kill life, whether it be human, animal, or environment, if we see the face of God imprinted upon it all?

This also reveals, in the words of Fr Richard Rohr, Franciscan and theologian, that God is very comfortable with multiplicity and pluralformity. For within all of Creation, each different manifestation shows us the eternal inclusiveness of God. In other words, God is all about harmony of all of the parts and things of Creation.

The Second Incarnation of the Christ

In Franciscan theology, the second incarnation of the Christ was at the birth of Jesus. As was stated above, in the union of God with humanity at the birth of Jesus, God showed all of humanity God’s human face.

In this time of extreme tribalism, in which humanity is broken into extreme factions, evident in our courtrooms, evident in our politics, evident in the violence in our neighborhoods and cities, the wars between nations, the misogyny, the racism, and in the religious intolerance of humanity.

The second incarnation of God in Jesus of Nazareth illustrates God’s harmony with all of humanity. Jesus the Christ is the living sign of God’s harmony with all of life, as opposed to the polarization that humanity likes to heap upon our understanding of God and life. Building upon the harmony of God in all of Creation’s various parts, can only one religious understanding of God state that it and it alone holds the full and complete knowledge of God? The Psalmist would say no. The apostle Paul would say absolutely not! For who knows the mind of God? This question reaches an emphatic answer, “None of us.” Neither Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Hinduism, Shintoism, Buddhism, or any other religion in the world can contain the full and complete understanding of God. Rather, as in nature, God is revealed a little in each of these religious understandings. I think it rather telling that the Great Commandment of Jesus is present in various different forms in all of the world’s major religions. This illustrated vividly for me the truthfulness in the statement that within all these different religions exists the harmony of God.

So as we close out this liturgical year, how do we go about evaluating how well we have lived the life God has given us this year? In what way, has the harmony implicit in God and manifested in Jesus the Christ, been lived out in our lives?

As I look over my own life, I continue to find brokenness in my life. With the violence and disharmony, the selfishness and self-centeredness present in all areas of human life, I find myself getting caught up in all that disharmony. In other words, I could have done better.

Action Steps

What are some action steps I can take in order to make my life more cosmic (cosmos means harmony), more harmonious with all of life?

The First Step

The first is simply healing the brokenness that continues to exist within my own life. Just as the world is broken into factions, so within all of human life, mine included, exists broken factions, disharmony. In my prayer, I am calling upon God to not take away my broken, sinful nature, for as St Paul writes in 2^nd Corinthians, it is in my sin (the metaphor Paul uses is “the thorn in my side”), my brokenness that the power of God is revealed. Rather, I am seeing my brokenness and sinfulness as a blessing from God, for my sinfulness is revealing to me that I am powerless in healing myself, and am totally reliant upon God to heal my brokenness.

The theology of Francis of Assisi recognizes that we not strive to be perfect, for perfection is something that applies only to God. Rather, we strive for poverty, recognizing within ourselves our powerlessness, and our imperfections. When we can own our vulnerability and our imperfections, then we are in solidarity with the vulnerability and imperfections of all people. Jesus never expressed anger at sinners. Rather, the only people Jesus confronted were those who thought they were perfect and would not acknowledge their own vulnerability and powerlessness over the sin in their lives. When we all can acknowledge our vulnerability and powerlessness, we can also know that we are beloved children of God, that God loves us, cares for us and believes in us, in spite of our imperfections.

The Second Step

The second action step is to continue to pray for not only those with whom I am in solidarity, but to pray for those who are diametrically opposed to me. The prayer is not for God to throw lightning bolts at those with whom I vehemently at odds (unlike the psalmist who asks God to bash the heads of his enemies on the rocks). Rather, I pray that God’s self may grow within them, that their understanding of God may grow and that they begin to choose paths of harmony.

Third Action Step

The third action step is to begin to live that second action step. In other words, to emulate the harmony and love of God toward those with whom I find myself opposed. However, I have tried to be more inclusive in my prayer life. Included in my daily prayer are intercessions for not only those who think like me, but also for the welfare for those diametrically opposed to what I think is important. What I need to do is emulate more in my life is acting upon that for which I have been praying.

Fourth Action Step and Third Incarnation of Christ

The fourth action step requires an understanding that what the Christian community calls the “second coming of Christ” has already occurred at Pentecost, when, through the power of the Spirit of God, the breath of God, the fullness of Jesus the Christ was passed on to the apostles and to those whom the apostles baptized. As the apostle Paul tells us in Romans, we have been baptized into the death AND into the resurrection of Jesus the Christ. We, who are baptized, ARE the third incarnation of Jesus. This is why when the apostle Paul uses the word, “Christ”, he is referring to the full presence of Jesus the Christ within the Christian community. Our work is the same as that of Jesus, in his second incarnation, namely, to reveal the real presence of God in our world.

I think we mistakenly think that our mission as a Christian community is to “build up the Reign of God” in our world, as if God’s Reign is completely absent in the world without us working to build it here. On the contrary, the Reign of God in our world was already present at the moment of Creation. Our purpose, our mission in life is to reveal to all that Reign of God is already fully present here in our world.

So my fourth action step is to peel back, so to speak, all that covers the real presence of God’s Reign for all to see. As the apostle Paul tells us in 2^nd Corinthians, as we get closer to death, we begin to see that which is truly real, that which has existed from the beginning of time. All that we see, all that we experience in life is transitory, a smokescreen that has masked the reality of God’s Reign.

This will require me to first peel away in my own life, that which masks the Reign of God present in me. As little by little, I peel away the masks I have created for myself in order to fool myself and others to think I am someone different from who I am really, I reveal in each unveiling the Reign of God within me. In the disrobing of false identity and the false selves I have constructed, I rid myself of the disharmony in my life and find harmony. As I work toward harmony in my life I must also simultaneously work toward harmony in the world around me. In my working for harmony instead of disharmony, in my working for God’s justice and peace in our world, in my prayers, in what I say, and in what I do, I, in solidarity with others, will reveal the Reign of God that is around us and within us.

Fifth Action Step

My fifth and final action step is to accept that in all the previous four action steps, I will do this imperfectly.

All this steps are expressed wonderfully in this poem by Francis of Assisi

Dear God, please reveal to us
your sublime
beauty

that is everywhere, everywhere, everywhere,

so that we will never again
feel frightened.

My divine love, my love,
please let us touch
your face.*

I believe that is our doing of all these steps, we will fully acknowledge the reality of God Reign in our lives and that Jesus the Christ is really the Lord and King of the Universe.

*St. Francis of Assisi, translated by Daniel Ladinsky, Love Poems from God: Twelve Sacred Volumes from the East and West, copyright © Daniel Ladinsky 2002, Penguin Compass. Used with permission.

Auxilary Bishop of St Paul and Minneapolis, Joseph Charron, once shared a story about the military burial of a war veteran. He said that the area around the gravesite was wet and slippery because it had rained the night before. As the American Legion Honor Guard raised their rifles and fired off a volley of gun fire in honor of the dead veteran, the mother of the dead soldier, slipped in the mud and fell. The grandson of the fallen woman cried out, “My God! They shot Grandma!”

I honor and respect the great sacrifice of all men and women who have served in the armed forces of the United States, many suffering death in combat, and, as equally, many suffering horrific physical and psychological wounds from their experience in combat that scars them and plagues them for the rest of their lives. I cannot begin to imagine the horror they have seen, and the demands that combat placed on them, morally and emotionally, that changed their lives forever. I have seen many of these men in the parish homeless shelter of St Stephen’s Catholic Church in South Minneapolis, so scarred from their combat experiences that they could never again slip into the normal pattern of civilian life following their service in the armed forces. The psychological damage being so great for them, that they turned to self-medicating with alcohol and street drugs in a desperate attempt to shut off the memories of war.

Homeless War Veterans

On this Veterans Day, 2021, I am thinking of those men who were coming into the parish homeless shelter at St Stephen’s during the time of my assignment at the parish. In many ways, the homeless shelter at St Stephen’s was a living memorial to war veterans, many of whom had been irreparably harmed by combat. At that time, many of these men were the casualties of the Vietnam War. As I was reassigned to another parish by the Archbishop, the first number of those who fought in the 1^st Gulf War started to trickle into the homeless shelter. I am sure, that number has been swelled tremendously by those who suffer incurable mental injuries from both the Iraq and Afghanistan Wars.

Are the Ways We Honor our War Dead and Combat Veterans Appropriate?

In Memorial Park of New Prague, they have just finished putting up another big memorial honoring those who have served in our armed forces. In every town in the United States, on the grounds of every park, every capital throughout the United States we will find numerous memorials to those who fought and died in our armed forces. Every park has decommissioned weapons of war, cannons, helicopter warships, and so on, that killed and tore apart the bodies of human beings, soldiers and civilians alike.

What I find it so ironic is that the very weapons which killed, horrifically maimed, and psychologically damaged our veterans, are used symbolically to honor them. The rifles that fired off the volley of shots at every military burial, are replicas of the very weapons that have killed thousands, millions of the bodies of our veterans buried in our church, civil, and national cemeteries. The cannons that litter our parks, once used in war, are just replicas of the explosive rain of shrapnel that killed and maimed many of those we honor on this day.

I wonder if the very symbols by which we attempt to honor our veterans, in truth, really dishonors the sacrifice that they made, and, ironically, glorifies the warfare that destroyed their lives.

Building Memorials That Truly Honor and Respect our Veterans

I think the most powerful memorials to our war veterans, are not the statues of warriors on horseback, nor the lifting of the flag on Iwo Jima which glorify combat. Rather, the most powerful memorials to our war veterans that speak viscerally to people are memorials like the Vietnam War Memorial in whose inscribed names of the fallen men and women of that war speaks not only of the great sacrifice they made, but the reality of the horror and folly of warfare.

To truly honor those who have been killed and maimed physically and mentally by warfare, the time has come to rid our parks of weapons of mass destruction, e.g. cannons, and melt them down into farm implements. To quote Isaiah 2:4b and c: “They shall beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks; One nation shall not raise the sword against another, nor shall they train for war again.” (NAB) Rather than the honor guard firing off a volley of shots, far better to leave the rifles unloaded and silenced in their pickup trucks. The haunting melody of taps, blown on a bugle, alone expresses volumes of the honor, the sacrifice, and the grief at the death of a veteran, especially a veteran of war.

What Would Jesus Do?

Throughout the Gospels, never does Jesus speak honorably of warfare and violence. In fact, he is quite explicit against it, so much so, that at the very time of his arrest, subsequent torture and execution, he reprimands Peter for cutting off the ear of one of the men arresting him, saying, “Those who live by the sword, die by the sword.”

Perhaps, the best way to honor the lives, and sacrifice of the lives of our veterans, is to erect memorials to honor those who work for peace as expressed by Jesus in the Beatitudes.

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are they who mourn, for they will be comforted.  Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the land. Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness, Blessed are you when they insult you and persecute you and utter every kind of evil against you [falsely] because of me.  Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in heaven.” (Matthew 5:3-12, NAB)

During one of those nights when Denny and I use to pray Evening Prayer during Lent, he once asked me, “Bob, what if all the church ministry we are devoting our lives to is based on nothing?” I replied, “Well, if what we are doing is based on just myth, then what we are doing still has a lot of worth, for we are helping people in their troubles.” I think all of us in Church ministry, wonder if the life to which we have devoted our whole being is based on nothingness. For all in Church ministry, like the combat soldier in a fox hole under enemy fire, we all wonder whether there is a God. All of us have to confront that question, and in the end, make a choice as to whether it is worth all the trouble, the hell, and the sleepless nights we endure in ministry, sometimes to a congregation that is difficult and, at times, do not like us. Denny, as exhibited by a life of simplicity and self-giving to others, obviously came to terms with the question he posed that night. Fr Kevin Clinton, whom I believe was Denny’s BFF, at his funeral today, revealed the degree to which Denny fully lived out Jesus’ commandment to love God and neighbor. Fr Kevin has given me permission to share his homily with you this evening.

Here is Fr Kevin’s homily.

Homily for the Funeral of Fr. Dennis Dempsey

October 30, 2021

Family and dear friends of Fr. Denny Dempsey, beloved parishioners of this parish

and many other communities, brother priests and bishops,

just this week I found out that Fr. Dennis asked me to take on the task of addressing you on the occasion of his funeral.  Dennis and I have known each other since 1966—

but there are thousands who have been touched by this man during his 73 years. 

I cannot appropriately summarize what the Dennis and the hand of God did among us

in those remarkable years.  Fr. Dennis impacted others.  He was a skilled speaker,

but most of his preaching came to others from their observing him live. 

He understood the words of St. Francis:  Preach the gospel and, if necessary, use words.  So, I ask you in this homily to recall what you know about Fr. Dennis Dempsey

as we walk thru the beatitudes that have just been proclaimed.

Oh, to be free!  For us to live liberated from conventional constraints

to see as clearly as possible who we are, what we can do, and what we need to let go of

and then let God and others take on the rest. 

Oh, what a joyous freedom is the result. 

Oh, how the quality of one’s life improves!  Oh, to be “spiritually” free!

When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain, and after he had sat down,

his disciples came to him. He began to teach them:

[“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.]

How blest, how happy are those who know they belong to the human race

with all its vulnerability—its hypocrisy, its idealism, its grief, its joys,

its losses, its successes, its dying, its rising again.  

How free and happy are those who live with both feet on the ground

and know that the kingdom of heaven is coming!

[Blessed are they who mourn, for they will be comforted.]

Oh, how blest are those who accompany others at funeral after funeral. 

Who are present to those who experience loss, the harsh shock of death

and carry the burden of deep grief.  How wonderful are those who know

and can announce to others that all will be comforted.

[Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the land.]

Oh, how blest are those who know that the love the divine mystery has for us,

became human in our incarnate brother—Jesus Christ.  Oh, how freeing it is

to know that each of us are human beings first and all other things we are,

sit on that foundation.  Yes, you and I may work at being Christians and from there we can be other things—some of us even ordained priests.  But oh, how freeing it is

to be approachable by anyone who sees us as an equal

and that land and all other resources will be brought to the service of all!

[Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be satisfied.]

Oh, how hard it is to witness and live within the ways things are set up

when a few control wealth, resources and power

while the human family’s vast majority live in desperation.  Oh, how hard it is

to witness political power guarding an unjust status quo.  How blest are we

when we do our part to courageously speak and act

while being at peace knowing that God will ultimately bring things to be set right.

[Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.]

Oh, how wonderful it is to know you yourself are not perfect

and know you need to be shown mercy

for you are now free to show mercy to everyone around you.

[Blessed are the clean of heart, for they will see God.]

Oh, the freedom that goes with living simply.  To not have a TV,

yet be very aware of the important issues of the day.  How free it is to be “OK”

with the passenger-side car-door being able to open only from the inside

and of course never turn on air-conditioning—if it indeed works. 

To drive a car until it must be towed away for recycling. 

Oh, the freedom to use a flip-phone instead of the latest technology. 

How free it is to live simply so that possessions don’t start possessing you. 

Oh, the freedom that comes to see God guiding and bringing all things to completion and just doing your part as best you can.    

[Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.]

Oh, how blest we are when we are free to engage with one situation after another,

with one person after another and even accompany many people

when animosity and alienation abound. 

We will be seen as one of the “children of God”.

[Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness,

for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.]

Oh, how freeing it is to regularly make plans to protect yourself

and live in the middle of where dangers abound.  Lies, robbery, oppressive use of power, extreme violence and poverty, even murder and yet be accompanying people

living in their culture and using their language—different from your native home. 

Oh, how “universal” or “catholic” it is!  We are free to do things like this,

when we know what needs to be done and it is the right thing to do. 

Ultimately, we will arrive at the kingdom of heaven. 

[Blessed are you when they insult you and persecute you

and utter every kind of evil against you falsely because of me.]

How blest we are when we to can let go of reacting to people

who are given to magnify our own faults and judge us as “troublemaker” or “odd”

or “overly concerned with problemed people” or even “crazy”. 

You can be at peace knowing that the will of God is your strength. 

[Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in heaven.]

Oh, how happy and reassured you can be to know that after all the chaos,

close calls, successes and failures, threats and incomplete tasks to be done,

that now your reward will be great in heaven. 

Fr. Denny would not want me to say that he lived the beatitudes perfectly,

but I can say that he lived them in a way that challenged me as a human being,

a Christian and an ordained priest. 

I suspect all of you who knew him were like wise challenged. 

I am aware that many Fr. Dennis Dempsey stories have been circulating this past week. 

I conclude with two. 

A few years ago, Dennis said to me: “Let’s go kayaking on Minnehaha Creek for a day.” 

I was to prepare our lunch.  Dennis would provide the kayaks. 

I came up with one of my genius ideas of buying Super America sandwiches for the trip—

you know, those sealed in plastic.  They would stay dry in the kayaks. 

Lunch came and I presented my brilliant idea.  Dennis’s face flashed with anger

that I would do such a thing as serve Super America sandwiches.  I was shocked. 

I had been on many camping and canoeing trips where we roughed it and simply adjusted.  And now, Dennis Dempsey was complaining about the food!  I thought to myself:

 “I finally found something where Dennis was being “fussy”

and set an expectation higher than I would. 

In my wonderment I asked him, what this was about.  He was living in a Rectory

where a friend regularly brought Super America sandwiches for lunch

and everyone enjoyed eating them.  He found out, however,

that his friend got them out of the Super America dumpster. 

Dempsey had been eating dumpster food all along. 

I said: “Dennis, these are perfectly good sandwiches.  They are not expired.” 

He ate all my granola bars instead. 

Second story.  The last time Denny and I were together was one month ago

when he came over to my home.   We deep-fried the sunfish filets from my freezer. 

We made enough fish to serve 15 people and the two of us ate half of it. 

He stayed overnight and the next day we walked the prairie and woods that I take care of and that take care of me.  It was a wonderful connection of two friends. 

During the fish fry we had extra fish batter and in the still hot deep frier

we made fish batter doughnuts—

knowing that we would put them out for the animals that come to my patio. 

Dennis of course, insisted on eating one of them to see if it was OK. 

Two days later I texted Dennis: “The opossum is now eating our doughnuts.” 

He texted back: “I am concerned about the opossum’s cardiovascular system.”

When I see Denny in heaven, I will ask him why he would eat the opossum’s food,

 and why he wouldn’t eat my Super America sandwiches.

The news of Denny Dempsey’s sudden death, hit by a car as he was bicycling along County Road 42 in Rosemount, has hit all the people he served as a priest very hard. Whether it be in New Prague, Northfield, at Jesu Cristo Resucitado in Venezuela, St Anne and St James, Risen Savior, we are all grieving the death of this great man. I am not the only one in this Archdiocese that regards his death as a great loss of one of the few remaining good priests in this Archdiocese.

Was Denny perfect? Of course not. Just like you and me, he is flawed, but dang, only his closest confidants would know those flaws. To the rest of us, he was the epitome of the priest as the Servant Christ, ready to wash the feet of those he served. As a priest, he was the antithesis of many who have been ordained the past 20/30 years, who, by their actions see ministerial priesthood not that of Christ as Servant, but as cultic, demi-god priests.

Denny Dempsey, a priest modeled after that of Christ as Servant.

When Denny was the associate pastor of St Wenceslas in New Prague, I think the only time he actually spent in the rectory was to sleep. Otherwise, he was out with the people in the town. You could find Denny bailing hay with the farmers in the area, carving a wooden sculpture out of the trunk of a dead tree at Bruzek’s Funeral Home, leading teens on bike trips to Pike’s Peak, down Highway 1 from Seattle to San Francisco, working with young adults, and often times, over at my house watching movies on the VCR Ruthie and I owned. You could find him in the backyard of the rectory in the Spring, tuning up and fixing the bicycles of the kids in the parish. Or, as happened one Easter Sunday afternoon, in my basement, fixing my broken washing machine.

Stories of Denny.

We all have our stories of Denny. I remember one Saturday afternoon when my four kids were raising all sorts of hell at home, when Denny showed up at the door. He lasted all about 15 minutes at my house at which he said, “There is a blessing to celibacy. You see, I can leave, but you have got to stay and deal with this.” Then he left the chaos of my home.

Ruthie worked most of our married life as an RN, working nights at a nursing home. Denny, usually dressed in a tee shirt and jeans, would often show up at my house around 9 pm, around the time Ruth was getting ready to go to work, dressed in her nursing scrubs. The one night a week Ruth was home at night, she would often be dressed in her nightgown and bathrobe. Because I often had to work in the morning, on those nights Ruth was home, she and Denny would watch movies into the late of night, me usually sleeping in my chair, or in bed. At a St Wenceslaus Christmas Staff party, when Ruthie and I got to the party, Denny was already there, dressed in his clerics. Ruthie was dressed to the nines. Denny greeted her, “Hi Ruth!” She greeted him back, “Hi Denny!” He responded, “I didn’t recognize you in your clothes.” She responded back, “I didn’t recognize you in your clothes.” The room turned silent. Shaking my head, I said to both of them, you had better explain to all these people what you mean about not recognizing each other in your clothes.

Denny was a good friend, and my spiritual mentor. When I was working on my graduate project in graduate school, I chose Denny as my graduate project advisor. I would go to him for spiritual direction. He admitted that the most difficult hour of the Liturgy of the Hours (a series of prayers deacons, priests, and religious pray every day) was Evening Prayer. So to keep from skipping that prayer, he would come over to my house and pray Evening Prayer with me during Lent. Facing a moral conundrum in my life, Denny taught me the importance of the Church teaching of the Primacy of Conscience, ending the lesson with the words, “Remember, the Church teaches to the general, but not to the particular.”

One last story about Denny … My sister, Mary Ruth, was chronically ill most of her life with Crohn’s Disease. She was suffering from Crohn’s long before they had a name for her disease. Every year, we could count on Mary having intestinal surgery to her alleviate the horrible pain that Crohn’s caused her. As she got older and the disease progressed, her surgeries became more intense, many of them 6 to 7 hours long, with a great uncertainty as to whether she would survive the surgery. One cold winter day, she had another very long, intense surgery, and the outcome was extremely uncertain. I think Ruthie and I arrived at St Joseph’s Hospital around 8 am, and Mary was in surgery from 9 am to 4 pm. She spent a considerable amount of time in post-op, before finally being brought up to her room. Upon reaching her room, we said goodbye to her and walked to the cold parking ramp where our Aerostar was parked. We began the long drive home, emotionally and physically exhausted by the day. Two thirds of the way home, the power steering went out on the Aerostar. I remarked to Ruthie that the power steering belt must have broken. When we pulled up in front of our house, I told Ruth to go in while I pulled the broken power steering belt out from the motor of the Aerostar. When I opened the hood of the vehicle and reached him to pull out the belt, I pulled out instead the tail of a cat. The cat must have crawled inside the motor to escape the cold when we had been parked on the ramp. I heard this pathetic, weak “meow.”

I was horribly distraught. It was not enough that my sister had barely made it through her surgery alive, but now I had a poor cat pulled apart in the engine of my Aerostar. I rushed into the house. My oldest son, Andy, asked, “How’s Aunt Mary?” I shouted back, “I don’t give a sh!t about Aunt Mary, I have a damn cat pulled apart in my engine!” I called the local cops for help. And, received back from them, “Do you have a bat? Do you have a garbage bag? Pull the cat out of the engine, and hit it on the head with the baseball bat, and throw the body in the garbage bag.” I told them to go to hell!

Not knowing who to turn to, I called my friend, Denny Dempsey. Denny told he that he would be right over. He added that he was bored working on some report for the Archbishop. He ended the conversation by asking, “Do you have a baseball bat?” I replied, “Yes.” He then asked, “Do you have a garbage bag.” Again, I said, “Yes.” He ended our conversation saying, “I will be right over.”

Denny pulled up so that his headlight shown in the front of my car. He got out and said, “I hear your engine has lost its purr. I understand you no longer have a tiger in your tank.” I just said, “Shut up, Denny.” We didn’t need the bat. Denny reached in and pulled out the dead cat, put the body in the garbage bag. Then he came and sat with me in the house as I poured out my soul to him, comforting me from the emotional stress of the day.

Closing Remarks and a Song.

Denny lived a life of Gospel poverty. In many ways, he would have made a great Franciscan. As an associate at St Wenceslaus, he drove a used mini-Toyota pickup truck with a little camper on the back. He chose to live simply. When he was assigned to St Michael’s in St Michael, MN, he took only that which he could pack in the back of that pickup truck. He had been gifted with a canoe from the parish, which was secured to the top of the truck. He had his bicycle, a few books, a few clothes and that was pretty much it. He didn’t need much to find happiness. He loved to ride his bike, run, and canoe. He loved to be with the people he was sent to serve. He often chewed the same piece of chewing gum for days, parking the gum on a gum caddy in his room … though, that is taking Gospel Poverty to the extreme, in my opinion. He loved to play his guitar, and when not presiding at Mass, would sometimes join the Guitar Group I had formed at St Wenceslaus when I first worked in the parish as director of liturgical music.

In talking with Fr Kevin Clinton, yesterday, he told me that Denny had spoke to him these words, “When I was ordained a priest, I found myself walking in the middle of the road in the Church. Now, I find myself walking in the ditch on the left side of that road.” Denny, like many of us formed by the teaching and wisdom of Vatican II, now find ourselves on the margins and fringes of the Church, placed there by the present crop of priests who want to return the Catholic Church to that miserable time in the life of the Church in the 1600s. The priests of our present time, could learn a lot from Denny Dempsey.

In 2016, I composed a song for him and sent it to him. I often compose music, and dedicate the song to people as a gift. I will let this song express my great love, appreciation, and respect for this great man of God.

How many of us remember taking the cellophane off the Beatles White Album and hearing the first track, Birthday, on Side 2?

You say it’s your birthday
It’s my birthday too, yeah
They say it’s your birthday
We’re gonna have a good time
I’m glad it’s your birthday
Happy birthday to you (Birthday, Lennon and McCartney)

This iconic song was memorably covered again in the John Hughes movie, 16 Candles, as Farmer Ted, a freshman geek (played by Michael Anthony Hall) sings it to Samantha Baker, a sophomore girl (played by Molly Ringwald) whose 16th birthday had been forgotten by her family. He sings it to her in the shop classroom during a sock hop at their high school.

Why this musical/cinema trip down memory lane? Well, today IS my birthday. How old am I today? To quote Bill S Preston, Esquire and Ted Theodore Logan from the movie, Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure, “69 DUDES!” Though in this case the number 69 takes on a completely different context than the one to which Bill and Ted were referring. Why the big deal? Well, starting today, I am closing out another decade of my life. About this time last year, with the pandemic cutting a swathe through our nation and the world, I wondered whether I was really going to make it to my 69th birthday.

WHY THE BIG DEAL?

My 69th birthday is somewhat of a milestone for me this year. Most birthdays, especially as we get older, end up being just another day. In reaching this day, I am now the longest living of my siblings. Mary Ruth died at the age of 42 years, my older brother, Bill, died at the age of 68, two months prior to his 69th birthday.

Over the span of these 69 years, I have come close to dying 4 times. The first, shortly after my 25th birthday, when I experienced my first supraventricular tachycardia. A trip to the emergency room and treatment gradually brought my heart rate from 200 beats a minute back to 70 beats a minute.

The second, on my 40th birthday, when I had a tachycardia that was very difficult to stop, and I was transferred to a heart hospital in the Twin Cities for multiple tests. From my birthday that year to mid-January, I had to make multiple trips to the ER to get my heart to slow down. Typical conversation to the ER doctor on these trips, “Don’t give me 12 millograms of Adenosine, give me 18 millograms of Adenosine.” Then I would wait for my heart rate of 260+ beats a minute to suddenly be reduced to 60 beats a minute, with the impact of getting hit by a truck, and gasping for air. After an episode like that, you feel like you have run a marathon race. Fortunately, i had a new experimental procedure done, developed by the Mayo Clinic, called Radio Ablation, done in January. It was a seven hour procedure in which cardiac surgeons seek where the short circuit is in the heart that sets up the tachycardia and then cauterize it.

The third, a head-on collision in March 2002, in which I suffered a very high femur break, and spent a week in the trauma center of North Memorial Hospital. Eight weeks later, I overheard my surgeon telling another surgeon, “We thought we were going to lose him. Many people die from that high a femur break.”

And, the last, when I came very close to dying from an allergic reaction to vancomycin, an antibiotic used to kill MRSA, that dropped my blood pressure to 60 over 40 and shut down my kidneys. After spending August 10th and August 11th in the ER, on my birthday, the surgeon removed my MRSA infected artificial left hip, and I spent the next 6 months without a left hip while infectious disease doctors tried to find an antibiotic that would kill MRSA and not kill me.

So this 69th birthday is significant to me.

WHAT HAVE I LEARNED OVER 69 YEARS?

1. I am still learning. There is always something new to learn even when the ability to be mobile has limitations. Travel is not confined or isolate to meaning only going to some place from home. Travel becomes more inward as I explore more deeply who I am in relation to the world and to God.
2. The gift of being grateful. There is much I once was able to do that injuries prevent me from doing today. However, I am grateful for the abilities I once had and experienced. It is true that as some doors close for us, new doors open for us. Reminds me of a seen in the movie, Little Big Man, when Dustin Hoffman, visiting his Cherokee grandfather hears his grandfather thank the Great Spirit for his blindness. His grandfather found that when his physical sight ended, his ability to psychically see expanded. While it sounds rather odd, I am grateful for my cane (my third leg as I call it), that helps me get around on my lower limbs, that seem to be held together by bubble gum and bailing wire (and a lot of other metal).

WHAT IS THE GREATEST GIFT I HAVE EVER RECEIVED?

That is easy. The day when Ruthie first told me that she loved me. Followed by the day she told me that, yes, she would marry me. Followed by our wedding day. Followed by the births of each and everyone of our children.

I told Ruthie that having her by my side is the greatest of all gifts. Just being with her is everything I have ever wanted in life. After over 30 years of me working church hours, and Ruth working full-time night shifts to survive and provide of our family, we finally have the great joy of actually sleeping together again. I have no desire to travel to faraway places. I am where I really want to be … with her.

GREATEST COMPLIMENT I EVER RECEIVED IN MY LIFE?

Hearing from my cousin, Kathy Deister Donahoe that my Dad once told her, “Bob is my exact double.” The greatest man I have ever known has been my Dad. For my Dad to think me as his double is the highest form of praise I have ever known. Of course, I am not even in his league. My Dad, is the wisdom figure of my family and extended family. People would always call my Dad when they needed counsel. I remember sitting by my Dad’s body, just after he died and thinking, “Oh my God, the wisdom figure of the family has died. Now I am suppose to be the wisdom figure. Boy are people really SOL (shit outta luck) now!”

Oddly, the only compliment I receive, albeit backhanded, was given me by Auxiliary Bishop Bill Campbell, when I was president of the Deacon Council. As I was preparing to assist him at a Confirmation at the Cathedral of St Paul, he asked me, “What trouble are you causing the Archdiocese now” I demurely told him I was behaving myself while thinking, “Well, at least I am not a horse’s ass wearing a miter.” (a sentiment that a number of people had about the auxiliary bishop at the time).

MY GREATEST LEGACY

Easy, in the order they were born, my son, Andy, my son, Luke, my daughter, Meg, and my daughter, Beth. In relation to them, my grandchildren (in the order they were born), Alyssa, Owen, Aidan, Sydney Jane, and Oliver (or Ver as he likes to be called today).

FINALLY THE MUSIC

When I was twelve years old, practicing piano, I knew I wanted to compose music for the piano. I composed a rudimentary piece for piano, which is now long lost. I knew music was going to be my vocation. When I told my high school counselor that I wanted to major in music, he did what he could to dissuade me from making that choice. I majored in music, anyway. Amazingly, of all the other guys in my class who majored in music, I was the one who actually made a living in music.

Over the time since my graduation from the College of St Thomas, I have been a music educator, teaching classroom music and directing school choirs from 1975 to 1988. At the same time, I was also actively engaged in church ministry, being the director of music and liturgy at St Wenceslaus (1977 to 1984), St Hubert (1984 to 1997), and St Joseph’s, Waconia (2007-2008). During that journey, in order to be a better church minister of music and liturgy, I worked on and received a MA in Pastoral Studies with a concentration in music and liturgy. Being in church ministry, I found myself also acquiring other ministries in addition to my primary ministry. Hence, I did pastoral ministry (which became my primary ministry following ordination), administration, and, spiritual direction. However, in spite of all these activities that took up so much time in my life, and my family’s life, deep down, I still only wanted to compose music.

I have composed around 30 choral motets, one of which I composed specifically for my ordination to the permanent diaconate.

Any number of junior high musicals, composed for my students (With names like, Across the Raging Main, Gunstroke, Medighoul Center, etc), and a countless number of piano compositions (numbering around 160 compositions). Most of these compositions were composed as gifts to people I loved and admired, or composed in memory of those I have loved and admired. There are only two that I have claimed or dedicated to myself.

To conclude this reflection on my birthday, these compositions are those to which I have a strong attachment.

This first composition was composed early on as an undergraduate in music at St Thomas. I had a particular liking for Paul Hindemith, hence, the tonality of this song.

This second composition was composed as a gift to a good friend and a family friend, Eleanor Campbell. When she moved from Chicago to Billings, Montana, she spoke of enjoying enormously the song birds in the area. I tried to incorporate bird song, a la Oliver Messiaen, in the song I gifted her.

This third composition was composed as way of dealing with the grief I experienced when our 6th grandchild died as a result of a miscarriage. I composed it as a lullaby for the child I never knew.

This fourth composition was composed in two parts, at two different times years apart. The first melody (fast and loud) was composed in 2018. The second melody (slow and quiet) was composed in 1975 as a choral motet. I composed this as a gift for Carol Weiers, a friend.

This fifth composition was composed in memory of Paul Lambrecht, by whose side I ministered as he was dying from cancer. On the day of his death, I composed this as a memoriam to him and for his wife and young children.

This sixth composition, I just composed in honor of the Holy Spirit.

Canticle In Praise Of Her, Psalm Offering 10 Opus 15 (c) 2021 by Robert Charles Wagner. All rights reserved.

The seventh composition is one I composed for myself. I want this song played as the last song at my funeral (note this kids). It is called For the Conversion of Human Hearts.

Last but not least, the eight composition is one I consider the finest piece of music I have ever composed. It comes as no surprise that I composed as a gift for Ruthie.

It seems that when I examine my life, all things return to the one I love the most, Ruthie. When I was attempting to fight the MRSA infection, just sitting around hoping that the final and latest regimen of antibiotics would finally kill the infection, and I could get another hip replacement, I started writing poems about my history with Ruth throughout my life. I continue to add poems to that history (up to five volumes now).

Today, I am so thankful for all the wonderful people who have shaped my life. Ruthie and my children, from whom I learned how to love. My Dad and Mom. My sister, Mary Ruth, who taught me perseverance in the midst of obstacles, and my brother, Bill, who often taught me what NOT to do. Dr Maurice A Jones, my professor, my friend, my mentor. Fr. Mike Joncas and Dr Scapanski, Fr Jim Notebaart, and Dr Art Zanoni. Blanche Schutrop. Fr Barry Schneider OFM. Deacon Len Shambour, Deacon Bob Conlin, Trish Flannigan, Mary Kay Mendinger, Deacon Dick Barrett, Deacon Tim Helmeke, and, of course, my diaconal class of 1994, who have been as close to me as my family. Dr Carl Burkland (who medically saved my ass so many times). Fr Larry Blake. Fr Kevin Clinton. Dan Westmoreland, Bev Cote, Linda Melchior, just to name a few people, and the many communities of faith with whom and to whom I have ministered over the years. You have shaped my life, supported me as I have stumbled along in life, and appropriately challenged me along the way.

Fr Henri Nouwen, in his book on death, “Our Greatest Gift”, stated two years before his death, that the number of years ahead for him were far fewer than the years behind him. As I close this decade of my life, I do not know how many more years are ahead of me. My Dad died of heart failure at the age of 89 years. My Mom died from pneumonia at the age of 97 years. Given my present condition, I think it a bit of crap shoot to prognosticate as to how long I will live, especially with the Delta variant hospitalizing and killing people all over the place, that the brain dead unvaccinated still defying medical science and infecting people left and right.

I think that when that time comes when I leave this life for that which awaits me, the proper epitaph for me is this poem of one of my favorites poets, William Butler Yeats.

The Fiddler Of Dooney[1]

When I play on my fiddle in Dooney.
Folk dance like a wave of the sea;
My cousin is priest in Kilvarnet,
My brother in Mocharabuiee.

I passed my brother and cousin:
They read in their books of prayer;
I read in my book of songs
I bought at the Sligo fair.

When we come at the end of time
To Peter sitting in state,
He will smile on the three old spirits,
But call me first through the gate;

For the good are always the merry,
Save by an evil chance,
And the merry love the fiddle,
And the merry love to dance:

And when the folk there spy me,
They will all come up to me,
With “Here is the fiddler of Dooney!”
And dance like a wave of the sea.

[1] The Collected Poems of William Butler Yeats, © 1983, 1989 by Anne Yeats. Macmillan Publishing Company, 866 Third Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10022.

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