THE SOLEMNITY OF STS PETER AND PAUL

When this feast would come up, when I was little, I often thought it remarkable that these two saints would take their names from the candy company that made Almond Joy candy bars (Peter and Paul Almond Joy, for those whose memories do not stretch as far back as mine). Of course, as I furthered my religious studies in school, I found that this was not the case. However, it is possible to use the Almond Joy candy bar as a metaphor for this particular feast. For those unfamiliar with this excellent product, the Almond Joy candy bar is comprised of primarily cocoanut, with a number of almonds on top of the cocoanut and all covered in milk chocolate. Yum! The soft, sweet taste of the cocoanut is complimented by the crunch and taste of the almond, and the milk chocolate fuses this two substances together for a delightful feast for the taste buds. Cocoanut and almonds are not two substances commonly found together in nature. 

Sts. Peter and Paul were also two very contrasting people in the early Church. They were so contrasting that they didn’t really get along very well throughout most of their ministry. Paul, particularly in his letter to the Galatians, essentially calls Peter a spineless no good for nothing for not standing up to the extreme conservative element of James’ Christian community in Jerusalem. Paul’s contempt for James was only equal to the disregard he had for Peter. The rift in the Christian community grew so severe that a council had to be called to meet in Jerusalem to settle this rift that was threatening the life of the early Church. Though these two were totally different from one another, they each brought their particular gifts and zeal to the Church. It was through the merging of their differences and the sharing of their particular gifts and charisms that helped create and grew the Church in those early years. Later on in their lives, with Peter traveling to Rome, the then “center” of the political world, and Paul being brought to Rome to stand trial, these two dynamic leaders of the early Church reconciled with one another. Just as an Almond Joy combines the flavors and textures of diverse elements into a marvelously tasty treat, so, too, did Peter and Paul combine their gifts into a Church that has endured persecution, schism, and scandals and has continued its grow as a witness to Jesus the Christ. Each and everyone of us possesses different gifts with which God has blessed us. Like Peter and Paul, God calls us to combine our differences and gifts into building up the Body of Christ on earth.

TALKING TO THE HAND ...

For the past couple of months, I, along with a parish search committee, have been reading resumes and interviewing candidates for the director of liturgical music position at St Wenceslaus. It has been over this time that I have also reexamined my role in church ministry and finally came to confront a major loss in my life that through a combination of being intensely busy and avoidance had failed to acknowledge. It was after one of the evenings filled with interviews that I finally looked at my right hand and the realization of what I was looking at shook me to the core.

From the time I was in 3^rd grade and first sat down at a piano, I have been at my core a musician. I was told by my Irish Great Aunts and my mother, that my musical talents were all inherited from my Great Grandpap Marron, who was an Irish fiddler and a penny whistle musician. I have no cause to disbelieve this. I have played many instruments from brass, to strings, to reeds, and percussion, I majored in and mastered the piano in college and minored in voice. And, for at least 23 out of my 37 years of ministry have been a liturgical musician. Like many in church ministry, I ended up wearing many different hats, but if I take off all the hats I have worn and gotten down to the last hat, that hat would be a musician. As I looked at my right hand that night, I knew that I had come to a place in my life that the last hat that has defined me from the time I played “Pony Boy” for the first time on the piano, would finally have to be removed. The loss is a huge one, perhaps even a crushing loss.

If you examine the picture I took (ignore the pile of messy papers), you will see a long scar that stretches from directly below the knuckle of the third finger (in piano, the thumb is the first finger, the index finger the second finger and so on) past the wrist and onto my forearm. That scar is a reminder that as a result of a head on collision in 2002, I lost 40% of the function of my right hand. All the ligaments were stripped in that hand and because I sustained other serious injuries as a result of the accident, the surgeons were unable to operate on that hand immediately and had to wait until it was too late to restore the entire hand. I had two surgeries on that hand and was fortunate that the hand surgeon was able to restore 60% of the use of my hand. The ability to play legato passages became more difficult. Thumb cross unders and hand cross overs became painful. The ability to play legato 5ths, 6ths, and octaves became impossible. I no longer had the sufficient amount of ligaments left to play as I once had. Life is all about adjustments and with a creative use of the sostenuto pedal and cheating on octave passage runs by playing only the top pitch of the octave (let’s hear it for overtones), have managed to cheat or fake my way musically on piano. Whenever there is a major injury arthritis sets in and so, too, in that hand, arthritis has set up shop toward the wrist, and in the thumb (the joint is all bone on bone, the cartilage all gone). If I look at the left hand, I notice the carpa tunnel that has taken residence there (hence the hand/wrist brace worn during the night) and the complete absence of cartilage in that thumb joint, too. All of us, as we get older, have to let go that which once we have had excelled. This can all be quite depressing.

However, if you look at the picture of that scarred, injured hand of mine, what you will also see is a hand that once played Mozart, Chopin, Beethoven, Bartok, Bach, Mendelssohn, Brahms, Liszt, Schubert, Joplin, Gershwin, Rogers, Berlin, Lennon, McCartney, Harrison, Joel and so many other composers. You will see a hand that assisted many people in learning choral music. This is the hand that has directed many choirs. You will see a hand that has accompanied many a vocalist, played many a wedding and funeral. You will see a hand that has helped compose over 200 pieces of music for children, youth, and adults, You will see a hand that arranged music for brass and woodwind ensembles. This is a hand that operated Goofus McNut, a blue walrus puppet, that helped teach children music when I taught grade school music. You will see a hand that once taught smaller hands to play the piano.

If you continue to look at that scarred hand, you will see a hand that wrote and later typed countless papers during high school, college and graduate school. You will see a hand that was raise to help volunteer for activities. You will see a hand that baptized many, many children over almost 20 years of diaconal ministry. You will see a hand that has held the hand of many who were dying. You will see a hand that has traced the sign of the cross on the foreheads of sick and well alike, and has blessed many over the years.

If you look at that hand, you will see a hand that has held the hand of Ruthie from the first time we dated, a hand that has softly caressed her face, her hair, her body and embraced her. You will see the hand that has held our children, changed many a diaper, helped bathe our children (though Ruthie did more of that than I), and helped calm our frightened children in the night and cleaned up vomit when they got sick during the night. Though Ruthie has done the lion’s share of cooking at home, this hand has made Chinese food from scratch, many a pizza from scratch (especially the veggie pizzas we had on Lenten Fridays), and other meals.

You will also see a hand that has rarely been raised in anger at another person (though I have raised my voice). It is a hand that only spanked our kids at the most twice (at least that I can remember). You will see a hand that has held a gun only once, during summer camp and that was a 22 caliber rifle fired at a straw target. You will see a hand that has never held a revolver. You will see a hand that rarely was fashioned into a fist to punch another person. This is a hand that has never killed another person. This has been a hand that for most of its functionality has been used only for good and not for destructive purposes.

This hand may never play Beethoven, Beatles or Beach Boys again. This hand may no longer someday be able to hold a pen, much less type a key on a keyboard. This hand may no longer be able to hold a fork, or cut food with a knife, or comb the few remaining strands of hair I have left. However, this hand has done much good throughout my life. This hand has brought more peace than violence to the world. This hand has created more than it has destroyed. This hand has brought beauty to an often ugly world through music. The legacy of this hand has been and continues to be honorable.

As I end this reflection, I realize that my days performing may be slowly coming to a close, but do I really have to take off my musician hat? Did Beethoven quit composing music when he became stone deaf? Obviously not, otherwise, the 9^th Symphony (the greatest symphony of all time in the history of the orchestra … don’t argue with me, it is!) would never have been composed. No, I will continue to wear that hat and it will be buried with me when I die.

I know that the musical legacy passed on to me from my Great Grandpap Marron has been passed on to my kids who all make wonderful music. Perhaps it will also be passed on to my grandkids, Owen, Aidan, Ollie, Alyssa, and Sydney or to grandchildren or great grandchildren yet to born. But more important than the music is the legacy of this wounded, scarred right hand. It is a legacy that has given more than it has taken, a legacy of peace, a hand that has to the best of its ability been shaped into the hand of Christ. It is that legacy I hope will shape the hands of those who follow me.

A Reflection on the Solemnity of the Ascension, 2014

 

This past Sunday on the Solemnity of the Ascension, we heard in the last line of the gospel these words of Jesus, “And behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age.” How can he be gone and yet remain? Welcome to the mystery and the many paradoxes of the Gospel. As Catholic Christians, we believe that while he has ascended to heaven, he remains with us nonetheless. His body and blood is present in holy communion. He continues to talk to us in the scriptures proclaimed at Mass. Jesus’ ascension allows him to be presence in ways that were not possible as long as he walked this earth in his corporal body. However, not to diminish the sacramental presence of Jesus in our liturgies, he is not a prisoner of the tabernacle, nor is his presence confined within the 4 walls of a church in liturgy. Jesus now can be in all places at all times through you and me, who have been baptized into his life, death, and resurrection. We are the living and breathing body of Jesus. St Paul writes about putting on Christ. What St Paul is really saying is that we, the baptized, have put on the skin of Christ. Our hands are no longer our hands but those of Christ. The words that come from our mouths are no longer our words, but those of Jesus. We literally live in the Body of Jesus. By being baptized, we have become and are Jesus to others. That is why it is so important to be aware that when we speak, we speak for Jesus. When we touch others, we must touch as Jesus would touch. We must guard what we say if we are the voice of Jesus. We must watch how we touch others, if our touch is that of Jesus. Being Christ to one another is incredibly life changing and the implications for us are tremendous. If we speak for Christ how can we say violent words to one another, or gossip maliciously about one another? If our hands and our fingers are those of Jesus, can we raise our fists against one another, or squeeze the trigger of a gun pointed at one another? And why, with all of our human tendencies for violence, selfishness, much less all the other negative human qualities we embody, would Jesus want to become one of us? He loved us, and he wants us to love others as he loved us. On this Ascension, let us recommit ourselves to be the living and breathing body and blood of Jesus to others. May we learn to live fully and awarely the baptism we have received.