Dec 29 Thomas Becket

Thommy and John

Good morning
I love you

‘tis 12/29/7 1848, just a while before the giants/patriots game – if Coughlin loses anyone to injuries tonight he oughtta be shot…. The pats’ 16-0 is irrelevant [unless it’s nineteen and oh].

The week between Christmas and new years has some of our biggest and a few of our favoritest saints…. Stephen, Holy Innocents, John the Apostle, and, today, Thomas Becket….


St. Thomas Becket b. 12/11/1118 d. 12/29/1170 c. 2/21/1173

Thomas Becket’s parents came to England from Normandy. [was he raised in a bilingual home?] And there’s no small bit of quibbling about their lineage – to the degree that many write ups explicitly deny his mother was a Saracen. But he was born to parents of modest means, not peasants but not more than a few rungs above…. My grandparents came to the USA from Ireland. Turn of the century Irish immigrants were not coming with a pot of gold; hardly a pot to piss in, actually. My parents received a not atypical 1920s thru depression upbringing in the upper east side [not the upper east side I came to play in during my stint at staten island mental health center in 1976-7!]. they got a high school education – no small thing for their generation and station in life. As my father said at many a meal, ‘we do alright in this country; a roof over our heads, three squares on the table….’

Thomas Becket received an excellent education from his earliest years. Sure he was talented. And, yes, his parents expected him to live up to those talents. And, they got him the education, and the opportunities to be with ‘gentlefolk’. I don’t remember the gentlefolk part of my upbringing. I’m a simple irish catholic street kid from nyc. Not a street kid in the sense as my father and uncles who literally did spend more than a night or two being passed around the neighborhood so as not to have to sleep on the street…. But a street king of kid. No polish. No panache. But definitely an education. The expectation, consistently reinforced, with the belt always available if all else failed, was that I would get As, I would study and do well in school, anything else was secondary, if on the list at all. I pretty much delivered the As; and got to do some of the other stuff – altar boy, choir, basketball, little league, patrol, …. Other stuff….

Thomas Becket started at Merton Abbey and then studied in Paris – the hub, the pinnacle of education in the known western world. How he worked his way through school or how he got sponsored, I’m sure we have more details but they didn’t pop up in the sources I drew this dribbling from. … I went to st Patrick, Roosevelt, sacred heart, Longfellow, Lincoln [from whence I wanted to go to a junior seminary but our parish priest redirected me], Cheverus, molloy, and then on to the Jesuit novitiate, Shadowbrook, in Lenox, MA. Whew! And then on to the University of Alabama. My parents, of course , paid my way through high school – no small expense for them, I am sure, and was, more surely, not appreciative at the time. the Jesuits’ benefactors paid for us at the novitiate. For Alabama I worked as a wire lather in the summer of 1969. it cost less as an out of state student at Alabama than for me to have gone to stoneybrook. I also borrowed no small amount of money. No one subsidized my education expenses. Lots of baloney sandwiches – not so bad really; and mike spanos’ exquisite meat sauce!

With his education under his belt, he found secretarial work – in the 12th c. private secretary of the rich and famous genre. In 1411 he was secretary to the Archbishop of Canterbury! [Again the details are variously reported; though fascinating, who knows how he really got to that position of trust and influence?]

Thomas Becket rose up within the Archbishop’s staff not only by his intelligence and knowledge, but also his winning and loveable ways, his frankness that was tempered by how well he understood/discerned the people with whom he represented the Archbishop’s interests. Thomas Becket is described [catholic ency.] “slim of growth and pale of hue, with dark hair, a long nose, and a straightly featured face. Blithe of countenance.” …. I went into the novitiate at about 225# but came out at 165 and able to almost enjoy a mile or two fast jog; good stamina at tennis [though it took lessons to make me a 3, and sometimes, rarely, competitive at 3.5] I got my degree, and much of the Alabama level of learning that went with it. [e.g., I read more, remember more of what I read too, in one quarter at UOregon grad school than in four years at UA Psych. Grad. School.]

The Archbishop sent Beckett to study civil and canon law at Bologna and Auxerre. … I spent a semester at the UOregon when my dissertation chairman took his sabbatical there – paid my own way, he got with Gerald Patterson, I had Steve Johnson plus two classes to take – and learned about beer nuts and pounders, music at the bars every night of the week, was introduced to the condom, spent a night in jail, and, oh by the way, finished my dissertation, taught, and helped with Steve’s research.

Upon his return, 1154, Thomas Becket was ordained deacon – and the Archbishop gave him several preferments, including the Archdeaconry of Canterbury. Right at the time that Henry II became king. [I remember to put Becket with II and More with VIII because B before M and II before VIII.] “Thomas of London” – you don’t get to be Archdeacon to the Archbishop of Canterbury by being a wallflower and inconsequential. Thomas Becket was playing in the big leagues and was on the all star team.

King Henry II tapped the 36 y.o. Thomas Becket to be his chancellor. He was then if not the most powerful person serving the King, only the justicar had bigger influence [jus•ti•ci•ary (er′ē) noun 1. the chief political and judicial officer under the Norman and early Plantagenet kings 2. ARCHAIC one who administers justice, as a judge 3. the jurisdiction of a justiciary.]

I was 36 in 1985. That year I joined HCA. From 1977 with my PhD in hand – I did walk across that stage – to 1985 I did not have an Archbishop as guardian angel and mentor. In part because I continued to not stay in one place long enough. E.g., what if I’d stayed at BAMA with the PhD? I’d be the world’s expert on the reinforcement effectiveness of social interactions with preschoolers, especially negative interactions. Who’d know where my dissertation and Paul Weisberg and Paul Siegel would have taken me? Imagine my being chairman there today instead of Bob Lyman? Not likely but it’s a thought!. Mal nor Steve were mentor material for me – I’m irish catholic dancing along the edge, they, very not irish catholic and building their castle behind giant walls within a moat. Ed Smith or Barry Mason mighta coulda become mentors for me if I’d stayed in touch or stayed near Tuscaloosa for a while. Dr Ernst would have been a rain maker for me if I’d stayed at UAB – see me as associate Director or CEO at UAB? [during my time at UAB I knew the two Birmingham contestants for white house fellow. When david matthews was selected sec of hew, the president really meant the president of UAB not the UA president. So, who knows, if I’d gotten into the academic administration ranks from UAB…  ] but, alas, I jumped into the private psych industry and in 1985, at 36, landed with HCA. Not quite chancellor of England. But the HCA route took me to a seat at the table in JCAHO, NAPHS, and AHA, at least within my behavioral health field. Imagine if I’d stayed at HCA. I’d have had VU mentors as well as HCA execs…. Oh well…. 1985 was a good year…. 36 a great breakthrough for Thomas Becket.

Thomas Becket, about 12 years older than his king, was of one mind, one heart with his sovereign. As much as they hunted or marched together or as much as they worked for the kingdom together, they saw eye to eye, heart to heart, what was best for England, for the Kingdom. They both also love to live in extravagance. When Thomas Becket went to France to negotiate a marriage, he had such a retinue that the French figured that if the chancellor traveled in such splendor, what must it be like to be in the court of the King.!?

1159. Thomas Becket organized the king’s expedition to Toulouse. As was the practice of the times, a man could buy himself out of having to join the army. Thomas Becket enforced this requirement even on the ecclesiastics who were not about to join the army. [they didn’t have Canada to go to at that time.] Therefore, this was the equivalent of a heavy tax [fine?[ on the Church! Dum dee um dum!

Thomas Becket himself rode at the head of his army and is described as a powerful fighter against the French. Remember, Thomas Becket was the Archdeacon of Canterbury, still, too. Imagine our bishops also leading their own mercenaries into daring attacks in Iraq? Thomas Becket, loyal servant and powerful fighter for the king. Maybe not saintly credentials. But, in the absence of other warlord traits of his era, we get a glimpse of his core of holiness…. He was not licentious [the ole rape and pillage thing; the wild and crazy things conquering heroes get to do with the fair damsels. Personally, Thomas Becket despised foul conduct/speech, lying, and unchastity [Word does not think this is a word.].

Life was hunky dory for England, Henry, and Thomas, all together, fundamentally simpatico. As Archdeacon and Chancellor, Thomas Becket led and represented the two pillars, the woven fabric of life in twelfth century England. He also was well trained in civil and canon law with an acute sense of principles or each one’s prerogatives and privileges. E.g., Thomas Becket he opposed Henry’s dispensation. He opposed a marriage the King supported but was of questionable validity within the Church. Thomas Becket pursued his king’s interests to the fullest… up to but not on or over the line established by his conscience and his responsibility to the Church.

In 1161, the Archbishop died. It was the common practice of the times for the monarch to tell the Pope whom to appoint to the bishoprics. Henry saw this opportunity to put his man into the Primacy, to better milk the wealth and powers of the Church for the monarchy. And Thomas Becket, no fool and knowing the ambitions of the King vis a vis the Church wanted no part of the coming conflicts. Thomas Becket went to the king and told him that he would perforce oppose such shenanigans. The King and the Pope’s legate persuaded Thomas Becket that the Archbishop duties were his religious obligation.

Archbishop Thomas Becket: 1162.
And with this mantle, Thomas Becket, formerly Thomas of London!, became a new man. Up to now, he kept his religiosity to himself. Thomas Becket saw what was coming and he decided to immerse himself into his role and religious practices in a more public way – so it would be clear to all who saw, most hopefully, the king: fasting, discipline, hair shirt, vigils, prayer… he ended all signs of his former lavish life… he went barefoot to receive the pallium from Rome. And, against the King’s wishes, Thomas Becket resigned the Chancellorship.
I recommend Juggling Elephants. An easy read. Circus metaphor for prioritizing and balancing the three rings in our circus life: relationships, work, and self. By the time I’d reached May 1, 1982 [33 y.o.] my personal or public experience of my religiosity waxed and waned several times. By my junior year in high school I was focused on joining the Jesuits – and led the fastest rosary at Molloy. At the novitiate, with novices ranging in age from 18 to 30something and Jesuits from young rising stars to half dozen retirees living in our infirmary, we had inspiration and multiple variations on the Ignatian theme. The first two years were, it seems [since I only did the first two years], meant to learn fundamental Ignatian and then create a personal foundation in Jesuit spirituality and modus vivandi. At BAMA, being a Catholic, a very tiny minority, the Newman Center was an Island of Catholic expression [at BAMA that Center was still pre-Trent via it’s 70something chaplain’s view of the world] in which I became something of a student leader. The summer after Woodstock I came back and the altar rail was still there [with plastic ivy still entwined] and the altar still faced the wall. I walked out on Church, God, myself for a while – until I found a Jesuit in Birmingham, joined that small community until I rejoined the Newman group. Graduate school was wild and crazy – Catholic on Sunday [plus the seasons and holy days], Catholic by identity, and still wild and crazy. Back in NY I did not find a parish to settle in, more of an itinerant Catholic or as Cardinal Weakland wrote, a behind the pillar kind of Catholic. When I returned to Tuscaloosa for the MBA I found a different, a vibrant Newman Center [I do belong at a university for my best modus vivandi.] and each time between 1969 and 1982 that I thought about or talked about marriage, I immersed into Catholicism, well, each time but the last, when we just dipped into it and I trusted but didn’t verify…. We each have a responsibility to fast, exert self discipline, do penance, engage God in prayer and choose those jobs that are consistent with our pursuit of salvation….

When Thomas Becket resigned the chancellorship, Henry II seemed to focus his efforts to exert more control of the Church as well as extract from it more wealth and power – the focus was his personalization of these efforts against Thomas Becket: a visible and symbolic as well as personal effort. E.g., the King told Thomas Becket to give up his archdeacon preferment. Thomas Becket delayed obeying the King. [imagine the dynamics here. The king is telling the archbishop how to do church business. Not to mention Henry’s telling Thomas to give up mucho dinnero. And, this was at a time when it was common for monarchs to have a say, the say, in who held what church positions….]

Thomas Becket thought he’d had the king’s backing to reclaim estates that formerly belonged to the Archdiocese. Well, Henry II didn’t like Thomas Becket’s reaching into his realm of benefices.

Henry II needed more money for his treasury – it costs to run an expansive as well as high living monarchy. He directed the parishes to make a voluntary donation to the sheriffs to help the king’s coffers. Thomas Becket publicly resisted and persuaded the King to withdraw his demand. But now their relationship was perilously strained – personal and church v. state.

The King’s officials, in a not unnatural evolution of civil law and secular authority began to assert jurisdiction over clerics who violated the law. The history was that the Church took care of its own – and dutifully meted out penalties. Thomas Becket as Archbishop, as he held as Chancellor, as he held firmly as a personal conviction, maintained the principle that the government did not have jurisdiction over clerics. This became acrimonious between Church and State, personally so from King v. Archbishop to pastor v. sheriff.

On October 1, 1163 [so nice to have precise dates 844 years later  ], Thomas Becket called the bishops together to pre-empt the King’s making this effort into written law. Most of the bishops did not see the threat as gravely as Thomas Becket did; they saw themselves as having the authority to cull out criminal clerics to mete out punishments themselves. Thomas Becket held firm [inflexible?  how do we decipher the difference between righteous firmness and maladaptive inflexibility?].

The King retaliated by insisting that the Archbishop give up certain castles that he held as benefices of the archdiocese. By now, word had reached the Pope. [imagine the intensity of this mounting struggle. And see how what was happening in England could play itself out throughout Christendom if not the entire Church/State relationships. The Pope took a keen interest.] Thomas Becket acquiesced to the Pope’s urging for compromise by offering the King, in a personal and private way, to obey the King ‘loyally and in good faith.’

This was not enough for the King – the divine right of kings; the King is the Kingdom and all that. January 13, 1164, at Clarendon, Henry II insisted that the Archbishop make a formal and public acceptance of the “Constitutions of Claredon.” – at the heart of which were the aviate consuetudines, the assertion of the King’s authority over clerics who break the law. Thomas Becket and Henry II could not [did not] find an accommodation, this was definitely an either/or for each of them. As much as the bishops sought an accommodating resolution, Thomas Becket held the Church in uncompromising opposition to the King’s assertions. [844 years ago, the crux of the conflict, personified and personalized, played out in London. Where is the line between State and Church? Drawing a venn diagram of the relationship from time immemorial, we might see at first only one circle – when the king was god, when the state was religion; or was that vice versa? The render unto Caesar, render unto God admonition is not so clear in the practical, even today. Not even in the fantasy of our ‘private lives.’ How do we know what to do for God, for Caesar, personally, ourselves? Right up to Mitch Romney’s and Mike Huckabee’s pursuit of the presidency within the context of their faith and religion. Not unlike, if I may stretch a metaphor, when Bob Begtrup asked me, ‘who’s responsible for Dietary, the Medical Director or the CEO?’ I answered “Yes.” That question changed the entire tone of his interviewing me – we lost the command school officer and began to engage one another about how would we lead VCAPH. I explained, there is no decision that the doctors make, that the medical director would make in his purview that would not effect the areas of responsibility of the CEO – and vice versa. So, yes, the medical director and the ceo were responsible for dietary, together.]

The King unleashed the rule of law against Thomas Becket, finding the opposing Archbishop, a renowned civil as well as canon lawyer, in contempt of court; and then revisiting his duties as Chancellor [though he had been released from any claims against him when he resigned] the courts found him to now personally owe 30,000 pounds. [yes, when you stand for right in the face of the more powerful authority, that authority will likely use its powers to force you to act in the authority’s best interest, not yours or God’s or your family’s or the Church’s. We encounter this from our friends, when they want to do something that is outside our acceptable boundaries and we say no thank you. The ‘social pressure’ – personal disapproval, a withdrawal of kindness or friendship or love is laid on us to get us to go along. And when we face a similar conflict with people in authority, people who hold sway over our lives, we must be prepared to play out the string – not to avoid conflict, not to acquiesce to greater power but to do what is right, to align ourselves with God and Church and all others after that [with family as domestic church, nested within God and Church]. As the struggle between Henry II and Thomas Becket demonstrates, to be right, to do right, for self and faith and church elicits austricization from friends and colleagues [for Thomas Becket that included his bishops and his friend the king], even exile, literally getting thrown out of the house….]

Henry II called the bishops together and demanded a sentence against Thomas Becket. After confronting the King, Thomas Becket fled on 10/13/1164 to France where Louis VII welcomed him. Pope Alexander III was at Sens and Thomas Becket went to him on 11/23. The Pope had already brushed off the Episcopal envoys sent by Henry and warmly received Thomas Becket – the Pope knew what was at stake here. The Pope did not accept Thomas Becket’s resignation; he needed this conflict resolved in the Church’s favor and saw Thomas Becket as the best way to get there.

Thomas Becket took up residence in the Cistercian Abbey of Pontigny in Burgundy. Henry II began to confiscate the archbishop’s properties and banish his family. Henry II then threatened to wreak havoc with all the Cistercian’s in England if they continued to keep Thomas in their Abbey. This conflict continued unabated until 1170. It involved the kings of England and France; it involved the Pope; it involved the essence of the relationship of church and state throughout Christendom. Henry II and Thomas Becket, the state and the church would not agree on a resolution to who had authority over criminal clerics – it was truly an either/or; with no win-win options apparent - - - and the best people throughout the west were working on it.

In 1170, Thomas Becket and Henry II agreed to reconcile. The question of the key items of Clarendon were not mentioned. Henry II agreed to be guided by the archbishop’s council to resolve rectifying the confiscation of the archbishop’s properties and perogatives. [Henry II owed some concessions having had his son made archbishop of York while Thomas Becket was in exile.]

In December 1170, Thomas Becket was engaged in some conflict resolution at his castle in Saltwood. On December 20, four knights came from France demanding absolution from the bishops. Why they appeared, had they heard the King say ‘why can’t someone rid me of this bother’, were they riled up against the church for their own reasons, it’s all pretty muddied. Thomas Becket refused them absolution.

The knights left but returned at vespers – “Where is the traitor?!” Thomas Becket replied “Here I am, no traitor, but archbishop and priest of God.” [render unto God the things that are God’s – e.g., your soul, your identity….] The knights tried to drag Thomas Becket out of the church, they were unable – imagine the resistance by this warrior and his people. The knights slew Thomas Becket where he stood.


A tremendous reaction to this murderous deed swelled throughout not only England and France but all of the Church. The devotion to the martyred archbishop spread rapidly – an enormous number of miracles were attributed to the archbishop’s intercession.

On February 21, 1173, Thomas Becket was canonized. A political as well as religious statement by the Pope and Church.

On July 12, 1174, Henry II did public penance.

Personalize this story. Not only because Becket is a Thomas saint but also because this story is metaphorical for your lives too.

I love you
dad

December 29 William Howard b. 1616 d. 1680 beat 1929

Thommy and John

Good morning
I love you

My stomach just growled [12/29/07 at 0744]. That hasn’t happened in a long time. a good sign? [I’m a little more attentive to my stomach in the past couple of months – it’s misshapen; a sit up seems beyond the realm of possibility; and, yesterday, was it blood in my stool? But a growling is, I think, a good sign. Whatever. Tmi?


Bl. William Howard
December 29 b. 1616 d. 1680 beat. 1929

William. A Thomas son. An earl’s son. A man raised a Catholic. [you were raised Catholic until 1994. then you were raised Catholic part of the time, a less and less part of the time, since then.] raised Catholic in an protestant England, even as an earl’s son – very risky business for the boy and his family who in the midst of opposition and persecution, did the right thing. [and you, in your anti catholic environs, how do you do the right thing?]

William Howard seemed to have a normal life – for an earl, the Viscount of Stafford, a Knight of Bath [try Chaucer!]. for a boy raised Catholic in 17thc protestant England. ….

In 1637, William Howard, of the noble Howard family, married Mary Stafford. Ya think she came from a earlish family? 

In 1640, William Howard became Baron Stafford. Family connections? Just an ordinary noble guy!

A Catholic noble guy. And because he was Catholic, he was [falsely] accused of supporting the Popish Plot! Imprisoned for Treason! [ok, digress with me. E.g., the movie the Great Debaters - which I recommend by the way; great people; a touch of our history; a foundational period for the history of my ‘60’s…. why did they lynch that Negro? What did he do?!!! Nothing, they lynch Negros in Texas, they don’t need any other reason…. They arrest Catholics in England, they don’t need any other reason - although a civilized nation such at Great Britain at least makes up a reason, wrapped up in a trial, and delivers the corpse just as dead after being hung, drawn, and quartered! If you’re not prepared to put Catholics in the same predicament as the Negros – well then, you disagree with the KuKluxKlan….]

William Howard did not recant; he did not turn in anyone else; he did not falsely confess to his crimes – after two years in the Tower [not the Hilton Towers….], William Howard was beheaded on Dec. 29, 1680.

May God have mercy on our souls… especially the englishmen’s souls….

I love you
dad

in defense of [my] insanity

In defense of [my] insanity.
William Nolan
12/26/07 ff.

Einstein, the guru of relativity, said that to do the same thing over and over again and expect a different outcome is insanity. Einstein was a pre-eminent physicist; not so much a philosopher or theologian; nor maybe an ace of a spouse or parent either. Though, who am I to quibble with any master, one unquestionably a genius, no bout a doubt it way smarter than I?

But, alas, let me give this one a shot – because I am, by this definition, a personification of insanity. You think?

12/29/07; 0512]
Water. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. …. Drip. The same thing over and over and over and over and over again. If you are lying in bed, e.g., and you hear the faucet drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip do you not arise from the comfort of your slumber and rumble to the bathroom and turn off the water? The same thing over and over again; but you do not remain snuggled under your covers…. Or if the water is dripping over a ledge onto a rock, does not the rock become smoothed then dented then grooved? The rock does not remain the same…. Of if the water is dropping onto your forehead – not waterboarding, Chinese water torture. Does not the victim, the prisoner, surrender eventually?

In my little world of behavioral psychology, did not the rat and the pigeon and the child and the mentally retarded or college student subjects demonstrate time and again the consistency of the learning paradigms? How often do we teach parents to ‘be consistent’ i.e., do the same thing over and over and over again, to get the desired [change in] response?

Is not our Christian heritage a lesson in doing what is right, to act in accord with wwjd? And right does not change. The Word does not change - as messenger again for the Father, referencing the original covenants, the same covenant over and over and over and over again; renewed with Jesus and sealed on the Cross, glorified by the resurrection. Jesus knew what happened to the prophets – and he did the same things as they – did He get a different response? [did the prophets get a different response from their repeating the message of God?]

So, I do what I agreed to do. I appear in the driveway, on the outside of your mother’s barrier, and wait. I come at the appointed time, at the agreed upon place. And wait. And wait. And wait. I am present. I am reaching out my hand to you – ok, bear with me on this analogy… michaelangelo’s painting of God and Man in the heavens, reaching toward one another, fingers not quite touching. The one who must close the gap, especially now that God has also become Man, is the man. Man up!.... I call and your mother’s barrier appears at the other end. And call again and again…. I write – emails, letters, cards – and send to the slot outside your mother’s barrier…. Even to your email, yours, without [?] your mother’s barriering, with your barrier of the inbox, I send, and wait.

There was one Saturday morning at st henry. I’m guessing y’all were maybe four and six. We probably got to mass a little late because we were in about the tenth pew from the back – or John decided to pick that place as a change of pace, to test, maybe, whether it was really his choice as to where to sit and ‘his!’ choice would certainly not be his father’s choice. At the end of mass, a man who’d been in a pew a few rows behind us, a man I had never seen before [nor since], came up to me and began a chat…. “your children will never forget what you’re doing’ i.e., taking them to mass with their father as a routine thing on a daynotsunday. I have no doubt that you remember. I also know how your mother reacted/s to such things – opposed, especially when you expressed your cranky opposition; so unreasonable to take children to Saturday morning mass. I did not, do not, understand at all her opposition to my bringing you to mass. [I do not understand her agreeing to raise you catholic – before our wedding, before our pregnancy, even in her divorce decree – and yet not even fulfilling with you the Sunday obligation….] …. One weekday morning in the st henry chapel, after mass, the priest came up to us and asked me to not bring you to mass because you distracted [annoyed I’m sure] some of the other attendees. Blew me away! I could see how our being up front, where you could see and feel engaged in the Eucharist, would be a distraction to some; and when you squirmed or talked or got cranky your noise would be a bother. [I wouldn’t want to mention the actions and sounds of our devout parishoners that were distracting to me before or during mass….] I continued to bring you to mass with me; but we did stay at the back, behind the lattice work; not so distracting to the others; and a space shared by other parents [mothers] and their small children – could it be the presence of the father with children upset the equilibrium?

The same behavior over and over and over again.

And what insanity? What change am I pursuing by the same actions?
Mother Teresa said that it is our effort, our actions, that matter – the results, the effect of our actions, are in the Hands of God.

I have an obligation – to God, family, me; my purpose, each of our purpose, is to know love serve God in this world so as to be with Him forever in heaven. God made me a father; your father. God made you a gift to me [and me a gift, yes, a gift, to you.]. God gave me my duties to you in fulfillment of my covenant with Him. My obligation, therefore, is secondarily to you; primary to Him. And when the actions align, then it is best for all three of us. When the responsibilities to God are not what floats your boat then the disequilibrium at least rocks the boat….

Today.
December 29, 2007.
I am in my Thommy lounge chair, laptop on the pillow on my lap. It’s 0553. and I am writing to you. Creating a record for you/us. Making an offering to you. And shaping my life as well. Listening to the train rumble, the haunting whistle. Same ole same ole?!.

John is twenty. Thommy is 18. John is a college sophomore. With the illusion of on your own – cherish that illusion, relish it, revel in it. At the midpoint of my sophomore year I was at shadowbrook looking ahead to first vows – little did I know what would happen in front of the fireplace at the Berkshire community college. I felt free and independent and the master of my life, my self, my future – though somewhat aware that I was being taken care of – my room and board, my education, the cost of everything I did – not a penny did I contribute.

Thommy is 18 and looking at your last semester in high school and onto college. A senior [albeit in a new school – I divert not….]. living at your mother’s house. Still bound by your mother’s divorce decree. [are we bound by something we ignore, that we consciously violate? Are we bound by our word, even when we change our mind? Are we bound by a contract or decree even when we no longer deem it relevant or applicable or of interest? Are we bound by the speed limit even when we drive 80 mph? Bound? This is a word rich in opportunities – from a tigger bounding  to homeward bound  to bound to a tree  et al. Thommy is bound to the divorce decree in a similar way as you are both bound to your baptismal vows, not to mention your confirmation of those vows.]

I am here and you are there – and, in this writing we are bound. In our being father and sons we are bound. I am bound here to write you, to you, about you, for you. And how are you bound by the fourth? [skip the legal part of our being bound, let’s just stay on right, good….]

The same thing. My writing. My emailing. My posting on blog. [I promise, when I am ensconced in Nashville, I will put up a billboard so that you will surely know where to find my writings. And if the response to the ad in the Nashville paper some thirteen years ago is any predictor, the ole shit will be in the fan. A same act on my part followed by a same act by your mother? And you?

To lift off the bushel basket and let the light shine. Yes, a father’s communiqué with his sons is light.

So I write. I send. Same ole same ole. Insane to ‘expect you to respond differently.’

My doing the same, my being and, thus, doing at all, is change, makes change – makes things different, makes a difference. Even with us. Even to you. Even in you; for you; with you.

Does how you respond change the rightness of what I do? Should it change what I do? A mantra in the great debaters - who is the judge? The judge is God. Why is the judge God? Because he determines whether I win or lose, not my opponent. Who is your opponent? I have no opponent. Why do you have no opponent? Because what my opponent says does not change the truth of my argument. [sumthin like that.] Does how you respond require me to change what I do?

What would you require of me?
e.g., does the sameness of your behavior, expecting me to behave differently, constitute your insanity? We’re all crazy? Love IS crazy, yes? Being father and son is an insane relationship?
But I digress.

How is any of this a defense of [my] insanity? Doing the same thing over and over and over again and expecting a different outcome is the definition of insanity – therefore, Resolved: it is good for a father to be insane.

I remember father Murphy teaching us, in addition to latin and English, logic and arguments and debating [no I was not on the debate team; tho, in hindsite, it would have been a good choice.] I remember the philosophy professor at bama [from USC] teaching us logic and syllogisms. and sophistry . Not unlike geometry and QED! Quod est demonstravat. I wish I learned better to recall what I read, studied, debated, so much acquired and thrown away, blasé cavalierly without due respect not only for the value of the gifts but also for my own efforts in the acquiring in the first place. But I digress.

It’s predictable 

What is the lesson I wish to teach? It’s all about me! I.
I do what I do – the good that I do! – to fulfill my covenant with God. In gratitude for his love and grace. To be more like him; to pursue the perfection of him; to be with him, now and forever. [when I fuck up; when I do wrong or bad (not necessarily badly – I have done bad with great expertise; my omissions have been even more extraordinary! When I do wrong or bad, that’s my selfishness, my failure, ….]

e.g., when I park in front of your mother’s house waiting for you {to escape from behind her apron [aka walls to her house] and do what she and I committed for you to do, what is right for you to do}. I am there because I agreed that this is how we are to come together; we agreed actually – your mother agreed and we agreed on your behalf. I am there. As agreed. And wait. Five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twentyfive, thirty, usually at least thirty five minutes often an hour or longer. My car sits there – can’t miss the red mustang convertible. You can’t miss it. Your mother can’t miss it. You know I’m there even when you don’t look out the window or drive in or out of your mother’s garage. You know my presence. You know my insanity. I am there, you know, and you are different because of my presence, my fulfilling my commitment to you and to your mother for you. More importantly, I am different because I am there – I may have come from two miles away at the hedges to be there; I may have come from long island ny to be there; I may have come from Columbus or Dayton to be there - it does not matter from whence I came, I am there and I am there because we agreed it is good and right for me to be there for you and you to be with me. I am there and I am different because I am there. I am more resolved to do what I am suppose to do – I even get into a Jobian dialogue with God; or like the James Farmer character says in the Great Debaters [they see a lynching; he painfully asks his teammate WHY?! What did he do to deserve THAT?! He didn’t have to do anything. He’s a Negro. They lynch Negroes in Texas! … so, it doesn’t matter what we do? All this doing what you’re suppose to do, being good and all, we don’t have to do that because we’re going to be lynched anyway?! You can’t say that! Not you anyway, you can’t say that! …. I shouldn’t do what I agreed to do? I shouldn’t do what your mother agreed for me to do? I shouldn’t do what we agreed to do for you, in your best interest? [no, I will not digress into the absurdity of our secular courts, nevermind your mother, deciding what is in the best interest of our sons.] my fulfilling our agreement is insane? My doing my fatherly duty is insane? My representing to you righteousness is insane? Let me be crazier than a bedbug!

And I should not do the same thing over and over and over again because…? Why? Because you do not come out that door? I should not do the right thing because of your disobedience? Because of your recalcitrance? Because of your feelings? Because why?

I do the same thing over and over and over and over and over again and again and again and again. AND, not only do I expect you to do something different, I know that you are different because of my being there. Just like I know you are different when you receive my email or my letters or my packages or the correspondence left on your mother’s mailbox post. I know you are different when you see that bag hanging there. Even when you don’t take the envelope out of the bag – your mother does that for you? [putting your mother between you and your father: she does that; you acquiesce to that. And that is good for you? For us? What is her motive? Her gain? Not only for herself by being the barrier or the gatekeeper of communiqué between you and your father? What is her gain in your loss? What is her gain in your feeloughts? With whom is she building up a relationship by interfering in ours? But I digress.]…. Even when you don’t open the envelope. Even when/why you let your mother throw away the communiqués from your father. Even when you delete emails. Because I do what is right, you are different. Different better? Maybe not yet. But different potential to overcome the barriers to your doing right and being better, yes!

Bring on insanity!

And if you are not different? Sorry, not possible! You cannot step into the same river once. So, I cannot be doing the same thing over and over and over again. This is not Ground Hog Day.



It’s 0657.
I’ve been praying and hoping as I’ve been writing. Maybe that’ll count as my morning prayer.

I am tired but rested. [a good night’s sleep. But I have this cough that hurts searingly in my throat and upper chest. My eyes are burning – and the dry air in this place exacerbates both the eye thing and the painfulness of the cough.]
My ‘plan’ for today?

0830 mass.
Off to macy’s to have jacket fitted. And maybe buy a suit [a job interview suit!]
Edit policies all day
While wishing I were at the nolan’s party in ny.

I have to go back to my circus thingy and make a schedule for today and tomorrow vis a vis my three rings and my priorities. I most want to write [meaningfully not avoidantly] – my end of year, beginning of year stuff. Especially with unemployment on the near horizon.

Ora pro me.

I love you
dad

December 12: Colman, Finian, and Thomas Holland

John and Thommy

Good morning
I love you


December 12
[It’s 12/16 and I’m falling behind. And December has a plethora of biggies as well as keeping up day to day….]


St. Colman of Glendalough d. 659

An abbot mentioned in the Irish calendars.

It’d be nice to be mentioned. A sign of remembrance. A gift of recognition. Hopefully as one of the good guys.

Many of the Williams are abbots. And I often compare what I do as hospital ceo or service line leader or when just a consultant [mercenary? A no responsibility for outcomes role?]. especially when the task is reform. Very much like the abbot saints.

Abbot qua head of family. Very personal to us, too. How will we be mentioned in the calendars of our lives?






St. Finian of Clonard d. 549

Teacher of the Irish Saints
Teacher of the Twelve Apostles of Ireland

St Finian was born in Myshall, County Carlow, Ireland. We have no control over where we are born or to whom we are born. That’s God’s call. And it must matter since it matters to Him. You were born in Nashville. Baptized on NYC, the same font as your father at St Elizabeth’s of Hungry. Born to your mother and me, an Irish catholic boy from nyc – way far from nyc in Nashville, via Buffalo, Albany, Portland, Lenox, Tuscaloosa, Eugene, Staten Island, Bayville, Tuscaloosa again, Birmingham, Auburn Hills, Covington, and on to Nashville – where you were born before you were moved away from your father to Greensboro [ you are from Nashville and now also from your father. I am sorry for that part. But I digress.]

As a young man, St Finian founded three Churches for the new religion spreading across Ireland. And then he decided that asceticism and the monastic way of life was the best way for him to serve God and Church.

St Finian was trained in Wales by Sts Cadoc and Gildas. It does matter to whom you go for your training. Discerning your mentors, teachers, trainers is as important, maybe probably moreso, than discerning your vocation. What is God calling you to do? And who is it who is best suited to facilitate your doing that?

St Finian returned to Ireland and built monasteries, schools, and churches. First at Aghowle in county Wicklow. Then, in 520 he began Clonard at Meath on the River Boyne which was his most famous – Clonard became the most famous monastery of sixth century Ireland – a reputation still resplendent today. The monastery served Ireland and the Church and all their people through the sixteenth century. Famous because? St Finian drew thousands of disciples by his asceticism and his teaching. And those who came to learn from the holiest and the best had in their midst more of the same holiness and accomplishment. The best do draw the best. The holiest do draw the holy. It is important, your discerning whom you choose to follow; whom you choose to learn from.

St Finian is known as the Teacher of the Irish Saints, the one who trained the Twelve Apostles of Ireland because the best of the best came to his renowned scriptural and missionary school at Clonard and left there to found other monasteries. St Finian is the father of Irish Monasticism – long before Benedict did his thing on the continent.

We are also known by our disciples, those who learn from us, those who come to us to learn, those to whom we pass it forward. The Twelve Apostles of Erin – the most renowned of Finian’s students were: Ciaran of Saighir and Ciaran of Colonmacnois, Brendan of Bir, Brendan of Clonfert,Columba of Terryglass, Columba of Iona, Mobhi, Ruadhan, Senan, Ninnidh, Lasserian mac Nadfraech, and St Canice [Kenneth]. In the office of St Finian we read:
Regressus in Clonardiam
Ad cathedram lecturae
Apponit diligentiam
Ad studium scripturae.




Bl. Thomas Holland, S. J. b. 1600 d. 1642

Jump ahead a thousand years and across the Irish Sea.

Thomas Holland, aka Thomas Sanderson and Thomas Hammond – well, you know why the aka and you know the story of yet another martyr to the English mission, yes?

Thomas Holland was born at Sutton, near Lancashire, England.

Thomas Holland left England to study for the priesthood. It is just possible that you have to leave hearth and home[land] to pursue your vocation, to live your life free of persecution and repression of your faith and religion; to prepare yourself for your mission in life – to leave so as to be able to return with more skills, more maturity, more grace; return to do good and right in the midst of your persecutors….

Thomas Holland was ordained in 1624 from the seminary in Valladolid, Spain. The Jesuits had been founded in 1540 and were riding a crest of magnetism as the Pope’s marines. That Thomas Holland entered the Society of Jesus in its home country where he was studying is not so much a surprise.

In 1635-ish, Thomas Holland, S.J., returned home to serve God and Church throughout the isles until he was arrested in London in 1642.

Thomas Holland was hanged, drawn, and quartered for being treasonous to his home[land] because he remained faithful to his faith and church and religion. Tyburn qua Greensboro?

I love you
dad

Gaudate Sunday 2007

John and Thommy

Good morning
I love you

12/16/07 nearly 23 hours later – 1234; inside away from the snow, more exactly away from what the elements do to the roads; more reflexively, away from the fears of what I cannot do, what I’m afraid the car cannot do, on the roads so apparently passable by others.

Up and out on the 5:18 bus that was right on time. A ride to the parking lot to get the mustang. With a center of gravity at about mid-engine, if there’s any swivel in the forward motion, it just naturally spins around the engine as if there were a maypole planted in the hood and anchored on the ground. But, at 0400 I’d walked the street outside my door, up the hill to the ‘main side street’ and both had been plowed and the rain, the drizzle, was not freezing. The forecast of two to four inches of snow, starting between six and eight, gave me a window of opportunity to go get the car. The first bus of he morning. Seven miles to the parking lot, along the routed I’d likely take back to my place – the roads were clear of snow and no apparent icy patches. I’d get back to park the car on the knoll at the top of my street, pointed toward the main street with the best chance of driving to work tomorrow.

The people who came to work last night came in through pretty nasty weather. The folks who were to come in today, at 0700, 1500, 1900, even, maybe the midnight shift upon return were likely to come in knowing the roads wouldn’t be much fun to drive on – nothing unusual for the date and place but still an easy excuse to call in and call off. So, as a thank you, I went from the Meijer parking lot across the street to Kroger’s and got fruit, vegetables, cookies, and donuts – something to please everyone all day I hoped. I hadn’t brought my hospital keys and called for security – Charles responded and remembered me for a midnight rounding months ago. I did not do as well; I did not remember his name; I only sorta recognized his face. The tour of the place went well. The gifts of food were well received. A nice surprise. Something for Donovan to use as a pitch as he called for staff to come in to help out; their being one short. The life on the unit either short or not enough – over? Adapt to acuity up and down. They don’t get it and haven’t had a leader in three years [probably much longer] to get them beyond that victim view of the team available. It’s not about numbers and they haven’t figured out, they have absolutely rejected considering, any other way of doing their job…. But I digress….

At 0640ish I went to starbucks. For the Times [having gotten the local paper at Kroger’s] and a pause with venti white mocaha, skim milk, no whip cream before the earliest mass around, 0730 – if only the snow holds off. Remembering how quickly the snow socked me in yesterday. At 0710 I headed to church and saw the snow flurries in the headlights. As I got closer to the church, the flurry thickened. And I turned back, not because I could not get there, I was not confident I could return. A U-ey across the empty main road and a stop at Panera’s for coffee and fattening scrumptiousness. I walked in and was told that they did not open until 0730 – the message please leave and come back. I told them that the door was open. I was walked out and the door locked behind me. I decided to wait in the car, watching the weather and reading some of the Times. Too bad they missed an opportunity to offer me a seat to wait inside. Maybe it’s a rule and no one there to modify the rule for the circumstance – or such a person did not think to or want to. Too bad. Panera’s simply does not have the starbucks kind of people nor the starbucks spirit. Not nearly as personal. And their coffee is not as good or varied. Their fattenings are more varied and usually fresher. And the free wi fi access is convenienter. And having a gift card present from them helps rationalize stopping there on the way by with starbucks being slightly off the path directly to my place.

Park on the knoll. Walk in with coffee [two mochas] and sweets and the Times [and a little of the local paper not fully read yet]. Inside away from the slipperying roads. Away from the risk and fear of driving – mine and anyone else on the road.

Lessons. Have the right kind of car – and prep the wrong kind of car with the right tires and good weight in the back. It also helps to have car insurance, a current tag, and a valid driver’s license. The absence of any – in my case all – of these raises the risk exponentially: and then some. Do not be an avoiding fool! Don’t run from the [irrational, Albert Ellis!] fears. Just do it!

Inside. Waiting to see if the roads will not be caked with fear later on so I might go to Mass. The nearest church is walkable – and to rationalize, not. Ora pro me.



Gaudate Sunday. 12/16/07

John, the proximal prophet. Not so much to predict as to make the way of the Lord straight and smooth. To ready people for Him. To announce His coming. And to admonish people to prepare. Rejoice, the kingdom of God is at hand! A prelude to psalm Sunday for some – the concept of the Messiah’s worldly kingdom dominated the era. John did his part to dissuade people of this misconception. It’s not about reigning in this world; but joining with God here so as to be with Him forever in Heaven. The Kingdom of God is at hand – reach out and take Jesus’ hand, walk hand in hand with Him, through the valley of death and fear no evil [or slippery roads!]. But don’t expect the defeat of the Romans – or the conqueror dejure. It is the defeat of self, the victory over Satan, the conquering by Good that brings the Peace of Christ and the Kingdom of God – Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done….

Zephania 3:14-18a. Shout for Joy! The Lord has removed his judgment against you – Forgiveness, the cornerstone of the Temple in the Holy City. The Peace of Christ before communion at Mass – I forgive you. Remember, whenever someone says I’m sorry, reply with I forgive you [that’s so different than ‘that’s ok’ which it probably isn’t wasn’t will ever be]. The King is here, in your midst. People act differently when ‘the man’ is around. How is it that we don’t get it that The Man is always around – try Patrick’s breastplate prayer…. To be good and right always because we are loved by God, because we love God in return; because we are loved by our parents and we return that Love, that Grace, in the way God has taught us in the commandments and shown us in Jesus….

Philippians 4:4-7. Rejoice in the Lord always, always rejoice. Always rejoice. Always. Rejoice. It takes being ‘in the Lord’ to do that. And if we’re not rejoicing – even under Job-esque circumstances – then we just might not be ‘in the Lord’ while He is always in us.

Luke 3:10-18. John the Baptist is the highlight of the day. Are you the Messiah? “I am baptizing you with water; but one mightier than I is coming. He will baptize you in the Holy Spirit and fire.” Rejoice in the presence of the Lord. Be Fired up with the Holy Spirit. You have been baptized and confirmed – sealed by the Spirit! There is always one mightier than “I”. and there is no joy without that recognition that we are in His presence at all times….

t-minus nine days and counting. The third candle is lit. the rose candle. Rejoice!

I love you
dad

December 12 Our Lady of Guadalupe

Thommy and John

Good morning
I love you

It’s 12/15/07, 1327 and I’m typing in the middle of snow and sleet, crinkling sounds of precipitation. Fool that I am, I went to Mass this morning. No snow falling yet – a winter storm watch for today was announced two days ago. After Mass, it was a spritz of snow coming down. I had on my list of things to do – go by hospital, do rounds, pick up computer and materials to work with [planning on snuggling with work all afternoon and night. I did that. When I came out, it was still a spritz of snow and no accumulation on our parking lot. So, go back to my place or make a run to the barnes and nobles and pick up waiting gifts – about a ten minute drive from hospital to there, all main roads. Sure why not? What could change so much in oh say thirty or forty minutes? See, fool that I am…. I got to the B& N and there was no snow accumulated on their parking lot either. I bounded in, picked up times, got to the check out counter and had a clerical snafu about the pick up but the manager fixed that. The snow was falling faster, thicker, - I saw through the window at the check out. I went and got a venti white mocha. Got the car started and the snow off the windshield. There was snow on the parking lot. Here I am with a mustang and not bad but not new tires; well, maybe a bit more worn than not new! See, a fool!.... I got to the side street exit ok, recognizing the slickness under me. And seeing the incline to the main road, not or than twenty five yards, smushed down snow. I got maybe two car lengths into the right turn onto the incline and the back end went left, the front end went right and I did a threesixty bumped the rear left wheel into the curb and bumper car-ed back into the B&N parking lot. I then tried to skid my way across that long incline to the exit that came strainght out onto the main road. up one leg to the exit lane intersection thank God no cars coming from any direction because in first gear I gunned my way up the incline toward the shoot to the main road, which was, by the way, bumper to bumper traffic moving slowly but moving steadily. If I stopped at the top of the incline no telling where I’d end up. I gunned onto the shoulder and was given a space to move into the traffic by a drive who must have known me to be an idiot! Having out of state plates I’m sure elicited a smidgen of forgiveness: maybe; not that I deserved any. I made it to the main road and a left onto the hwy, which was well salted and black top at that intersection. All downhill for the next two miles. I was optimistic. For maybe three minutes; probably it was only one. When I got to the next light, the only black top was in the track lanes the cars were leaving. And it was down hill, fortunately a straight down hill. In lowest gear, leaving lots of space, maybe five car lengths, between me and the car in front, holding speed at twenty mph, cars going by on the left lane at maybe thirty mph. one slip of the rear to the left for maybe five or gosh ten seconds, I lost my breathing and my heart stopped, with a mantra of please God help please please. The car straightened itself out – my guardian angel? Thomas? Or any of the Williams? Probably Joseph? It was not me. The car made it to the bottom of the hill without slipping again, without changing lanes. I was three miles from my place, a half mile from the hospital; and run out of confidence in me or the car to make any progress. So, I pulled into the shopping center parking lot and called for a cab. That was 1030. I’ve read the Times, drunk the venti, finished the puzzles in the local paper, verified on the hour that I’m still on the cab company’s call list – yes, getting closer, we’ll get to you. I’ll get back to the place, even if I have to take the bus – which is scheduled hourly by here – I’d have taken that if I didn’t have any of the stuff I want to take home to work with. As long as they feed me the line that I’m on their list and they will be coming to get me, I’ll wait on the cab to bring all this stuff back. Cards to write. Presents to wrap. I had such a great plan for the day. And was such a fool. ….
I am a bad weather fool.

There was the trip from Tuscaloosa to NYC to Eugene – the morning in Boise. I woke up at the usual time, having traveled steadily for a week. My body was already going 65 mph. It was rain and sleet outside. I had a comet then. The morning traffic was in full swing. I just had to glide onto the interstate and head northwest. And the weather man, the drive time guy, kept repeating that the weather was going to break mid morning, be well above 32 – maybe even forty; a heat wave near Christmas in Boise. If you don’t have to be out, stay in. Fool that I was, I headed out. Made it out of town just a-ok! Got maybe twenty plus miles out of town and was cruising along in the left lane of the interstate, the clearest lane, the steadily moving lane. And oops, oh shit, oh my God, the rear end went left and the front end veered right and I went with the skid, almost [well who knows how close to almost really?] regained control and went into the interstate median at a 45 degree angle to the highway. Sloshed the grass an came to a muddy thud stop. The front right wheel was bent so I was going nowhere fast, or slow…. So, maybe another kind guardian angel move – a tow truck was coming along behind me, saw the not so swift driving acrobatics, and pulled up on the left shoulder and offered to help. A lanky guy. Warmly dressed in tow truck attire. Long hair [I’m wanting to say a beard too but I doubt it.]. He took my car and me to his gas station mechanic shop just off the next exit – an exit that seemed to be in the middle of no where [guardian angel with a sense of humor and no subtlety in the lesson to be taught – and obviously not yet learned.]. The rod that holds the wheel on was bent and needed replacement; a part he did not have in stock – his garage looked as much like his barn as his garage; not much stock in this Mr. Fixit Mechanic’s barn. Being Friday [maybe Saturday] with Christmas on Monday, he’d be able to get the part and have me on my way on Tuesday. Or Wednesday. He must have seen the forlornness on my face! Well, let me try to straighten it out for you – it may take a while but it’s worth the try. … he tried. We spent the day together – no one else stopped there for gas or for garage services. He was a rancher who leased 25,000 acres of government grazing land about a day’s horseback ride from the nearest road. No way could I get my mind around that! Nor could he picture a one hundred story building. This Irish Catholic boy from NYC meets Jack of All Trades, cattle rancher, all around saintly guy in somewhere Idaho, NW of Boise. I was off to my next stop, when I got tired again, by about four pm. ….

It’s 1434, I just got into my place from the cab, a short four miles from where my car will wait out the snow and sleet and return to snow and more tonight…. Through noon tomorrow. It’s about a two mile walk to church in the morning. Maybe another cab ride? The cab driver gave me a great suggestion – put a couple of one hundred pound sacks of salt over the rear tires. Of course! That’s what Dad did when we lived in Maine – he probably did it in Albany and Buffalo too, but I remember Maine. I am a forgetful fool, too!

One reason God gives you two parents is so you can learn many more what nots to do! You have the foibles of two people to show you what to avoid if you can. My list is so long you are missing so much to learn, I am sorry for your loss – and mine; and all the Nolans; because you are prevented from being son and grandson and nephew and cousin and all the greats and seconds before those roles…. That’s why Monica gives me so much hope….



Our Lady of Guadalupe
December 12
Patron of the Americas

Our Lady. So many Our Ladies “of”! Stay with “Our Lady”. Mary. Our devotion to Mary, Moira, Brigid, the Mary of the Gaels. Mary’s place in our lives – blocked from yours? Taken from yours? Absent from yours? I pray not! A Statue of Mary? The Rosary? Celebrating her holy days of obligation with Holy Mother Church? [Mary as Mother; Church as Mother. Mary to teach you what the ideal for Mother is. And, thus, the ideal for Spouse first then Mother. And, as Jesus’ Mother, Our Mother, too. But, I digress  ] references to Our Lady, to JesusMaryJoseph routinely? Our Lady a part of our lives now, then, for always.

How is Our Lady a part of our lives? That’s why we have these feasts, one reason why. To educate us about how Mary has been part of our lives already and how we bring her into today. To us. To make her Ours. And, Our Lady of Guadalupe, Patron of the Americas, this Our Lady is of particular import to us, more integral to us, more personal to us, much closer to us.

Reflect upon Our Lady of Guadalupe. Learn a lesson about faith. Learn a lesson of understanding. Put yourself, do the gestalt thing, in the place of Juan Diego; the local priest; the bishop; his family and community. Put yourself in the hands of Our Lady.

Since Juan Diego was a regular of our Saints of the Day prayers; and because Juan Diego was highlighted by our Dominican sisters; and with your celebrating through grammar school at least the feasts of Guadalupe and Juan Diego, you, I pray, remember the story…. As I read a couple of google referred sights, I learned a couple of facts I don’t think I knew before.

In Mesoamerica, in 1521, the Spanish capture the capital city of the Aztec empire. In less than twenty years, 9 million, who had centuries of adherence to their polytheistic and human sacrificing religion, were converted to Catholicism. Sowhathappened? How did this historically unprecedented conversion happen?


1474. thee hundred and thirty three years ago toadyish, Quauhtlatoatzin was born in Cuautitlan – maybe twenty miles of today’s Mexico city.

1475. Juan de Zumarraga was born in Spain

Irvin Shaw has written several books that start at time A, e.g., 1531, in a remote place, e.g. Cuautitlan, Mexico, wherein two people converge their uniquely different lives, e.g., Quauhtlatoatzin and Juan de Zumarraga, into some miraculous collaboration or eternal conflict. And then the novel meanders back to their beginnings and how the day before, maybe the month before, the two men met, no one, no how, would have, could have predicted their trajectories merging even for a moment. These two men whom God brought together on our behalf, under the auspices of Our Lady, could not have imagined their meeting, never mind the miracles their coming together would produce for us….

1492. Columbus landed in ‘San Salvador’.

1519. Herman Cortez arrived in Mexico and two years later he takes the Aztecs’ capital city, Tenochitlan for himself; well, for Spain.

1524. The first twelve Franciscans arrive in Mexico City. [12, a magic number for us?]. Some might say that the Franciscans came as Catholic/Christian Conquistadors for the faith. They came under the protection of and with the power of Cortez’s army. As fervent to capture souls and Cortez was eager to acquire treasure. And, if the Franciscans did their job successfully, the good Christian peasants and defeated warriors would know their proper place subservient to their new Spanish masters – newly masters of their land, their treasure, their people, and, to squelch any resistance, also masters of their souls.

The Franciscans converted maybe a few hundred native Mexicans [that’d be Indians] in the first dozen or two years they were here. [As Our Lady of Guadalupe is the Patron of the Americas, then there in Mexico is also here for us anywhere in the Americas, yes?] It might have something to do with having been enslaved by the Spanish, good Catholic conquerors that they were. Maybe it was their pride of civilization, their collective unconscious, their righteous grounding in their own religion – no reason to abandon the gods of our fathers and grandfathers and greatgrandfathers back to the beginning of time. A civilization and religion that predated the Spaniards…. Not only did very few convert, Christianity was distinctly unpopular among the Indians.

1525. Quauhtlatoatzin is baptized by a Franciscan missionary; given the Christian name Juan Diego, John of God, a bit redundant given the meaning of John. [What do the marketing people call those who are first to try something new? Quauhtlatoatzin was apparently one of these. We don’t have much on the conversion story of this Indian; a story noteworthy in its absence – a story that I am sure would be inspirational to each of us.

1528. Friar Juan de Zumarraga arrived in the New World

1529. Quauhtlatoatzin’s, now aka Juan Diego’s, wife dies. He’s fifty five when his wife dies. In the sixteenth century, 55 is pretty old. I was only forty five when I learned that I didn’t have a wife. Being wifeless isn’t the end of the world but it is detrimental to one’s equilibrium when he thought he’d been married for a dozen years. It was and always will be [increasingly] detrimental to the lives of our children. Annulment is not the death of a spouse but has comparable consequences, especially for the children – probably worse effects. For all involved. Family and community rally around for the widower and his family; not so for the effluence of annulment and [necessarily in this country in our church] divorce. To learn a bit about the family and culture of Juan Diego, especially for a rare converted Catholic. I don’t remember his having children of his own but it makes sense to assume he did have adult children by the time he was an elderly 55 [at a time when 40 was old! And there was a time I thought forty was old. Notsomuchanymore!] ….


1531. The miracles of Our Lady of Guadalupe….
Saturday, December 9, 1531. Juan Diego crossed Tepeyac, a barren hill, to attend Mass. Sudden blinding light, heavenly music, and the appearance of a beautiful dark skinned woman calling him ‘my son’ said she was the Virgin Mary. She spoke to him in his native Nahuati [duh. How else was he to understand anything she might say to him?] Mary told Juan Diego that she wanted a church built on Tepeyac and told him to pass on the message to Bishop Juan de Zumarraga. [ok, if you were told to bring an apparitional message to Bishop Peter Jugis, how would you go about it? Imagine some peasant farmer or illegal immigrant getting an audience with a bishop – though today, such a person might have a better shot at it than you or I. Certainly infinitely more likely than Juan Diego’s getting in to see the bishop.

But, Juan Diego got an audience with the Bishop. And the bishop’s response? Like Thomas?!. Incredulous. He demanded his own personal proof.

Juan Diego, defeated – how could the Bishop believe him, a poor Indian, even if he were Catholic? – and afraid – what would the vision do to him? Were it really the Virgin Mother? Juan Diego avoided Tepeyac.

December 12, 1531, Juan Diego traversed Tepeyac again – hurrying to get help for a sick uncle. The Virgin re-appeared to him on the hill. Juan Diego explained the bishop’s demands – as if Mary, the Mother of God, wouldn’t have known? Our Lady told Juan Diego to pick roses from the hillside – in winter, from a barren hillside – and bring them to de Zumarraga.

The story of Our Lady of Guadalupe is turning into the saga of Juan Diego and the part even more reluctantly played by Bishop de Zumarraga. Juan Diego delivers the roses to the Bishop. Miracle enough, you think? Well, Our Lady goes over the top and leaves an image of herself on Juan Diego’s cloak.

[This cloak has been carefully preserved. And skeptically and extensively analyzed. It is doubtful that the pigment could have been produced in 1531, or even today. Rendering the design then or now is also unlikely. And, ohbytheway, the image of Our Lady of Guadalupe remains uncorrupted to this day! So there! Go figure! Faith and reason; both boggle the mind, not to mention the soul of faith.]

What was Mary, the Mother of Jesus, Our Lady, doing on Tepeyac? How coincidental is it that this hill, the site of the Aztec temple of Tonatzin, the earth goddess, protector of humanity? A temple that Bishop Juan de Zumarraga had ordered destroyed? The site upon which he had built the church, now basilica, to Mary, Virgin Mother of us all. The good Franciscan taking something for Francis Xavier’s playbook?


“Let not your heart be disturbed. Do not fear that sickness, nor any other sickness or anguish. Am I not here, who is your Mother? Are you not under my protection? Am I not your health? Are you not happily within my fold? What else do you wish? Do not grieve nor be disturbed by anything." (Words said by of Our Lady of Guadalupe to Juan Diego)


From 1519 to 1521, the Spanish conquered the Aztec powers and destroyed their religion – a religion of warfare and human sacrifice on a wholesale scale. In 1487, during the four day dedication of a new temple in Tenochtitlan, 80,000 men, women, and children were sacrificed. The Aztecs could no longer feed their sun god; but the world did not end. In the midst of constant sacrifice, how did the goddess Tonatzin actually protect her people? By 1531, the Aztec religion had been effectively suppressed. Christianity replaced it. And with that, the Christian icons replaced the Aztec gods? Oh ye of wavering and skeptical faith! 

Why, by the way, did Our Lady asked to be known here as ‘of Guadalupe’, a Spanish city? Not her usual modus operandi – she usually comes to be known by a title and then ‘of the city where she appeared.’ What’s this story about? Maybe, just maybe, something was lost in translation from Nahuati to Spanish. Maybe she said “coatlaxopeuh”, pronounced ‘quatlasupe’ which sounds like the Spanish word Guadalupe. The Nahuati word means ‘the one who crushes out snakes.’ Not an inconsequential reference to the Aztecs. The snake was the mighty symbol of their power and religion; the power to whom the people were sacrificed.

Maybe it is really not coincidental. Maybe, likely?, Mary and God decided to step into our time and place, knowing full well what they were doing, how they were trying to help the conversion of the Aztecs, the stopping of the human sacrifices, the resilience of the newly converted faithful.

In 1999, Pope John Paul II entrusted the cause of protecting the innocent lives of children, especially those in danger of not being born. Woven into the collective unconscious of the Indians, the Mexicans, the Aztec sacrificial religion and the protectress Tonatzin. JPII touches that centuries old strain and seeks to replace it fully with Our Lady of Guadalupe on the hill at Tepeyac as Patron of the Americas, especially the innocent.


I love you
dad

December 5 John Almond b. 1577 d. 1612 John Wonder-Worker d. 750 Sabas d. 439

John and Thommy

Good morning
I love you

Continuing saga of hooky….
Two John saints [Almond and Wonder Worker] on December 5, 2007, today. Plus, the Saint Sabas, namesake of the monastery to which John of Damascus retired….


St. John Almond
December 5 b. 1577 d. 1612

The Forty Martyrs of England and Wales. Well, we have many more canonized martyrs of England! And many many more who have not received canonization – men, women, and children persecuted and killed for one reason only; they were Catholic. [you know that feeling; these martyrs, especially the anonymous ones offer you courage, just open the door to your confirmation forces.] There’s an amber alert commercial on the radio these days that is a litany of names of kidnap victims with a voice over of ‘it’s not about statistics, it’s about responding to the horrific experience of the abductees and doing something about it.’ Well, In 1970, Forty representative martyrs were selected for canonization – and canonized for our wellbeing and edification not for theirs. A gift from the church to us.

Henry VIIIth (crowned 1509) [try the song by Herman’s Hermits] married (1509), with special dispensation by the Church, his brother’s widow, Catherine of Aragon, who gave us Mary (1516) …. Henry later married Jane Seymour (1536) [without benefit of annulment from Catherine], who gave him a son, Edward. So, when Henry VIII died, the church state schism was personified by the two claimants to the throne. Edward ruled from 1547-1553 (age 10-16) as a Protestant. Mary’s forces brought her to the throne until 1558. She tried to eradicate the persecution of Catholics and reinstitute Catholic supremacy in the secular realm – in ways that lost her the support of the people and the royalty. That brought Elizabeth I to the throne until 1601, who re-protestantized the country; trying to minimize the persecution of Catholics. Until, the Pope declared her an illegitimate monarch [declaring that her cousin, Mary Queen of Scots, a Catholic, was the rightful heir] – he also proclaimed that Catholics in England had an obligation to replace Elizabeth with Mary. Religious freedom, religious tolerance, were lost in the continuous struggles for royal supremacy in England - - torturously complicated by the political alliances and agendas promulgated by the Pope.

Here is the list of the forty representing the untold thousands of martyrs inflicted on the Church for over a hundred years (1535 – 1679) in England: Those marked with an asterisk (*) are Welsh, the others English.

Religious Orders (monks, friars, etc.):
Carthusians: John Houghton, Augustine Webster, Robert Lawrence, 1535;
Brigittine: Richard Reynolds; 1535.
Augustinian friar: John Stone; 1539.
Jesuits:
Edmund Campion, 1581;
Robert Southwell, Henry Walpole, 1595;
Nicholas Owen, Jesuit laybrother, 1606;
Thomas Garnet, 1608;
Edmund Arrowsmith, 1628;
Henry Morse, 1645;
Philip Evans*, David Lewis*, 1679.
Benedictines:
John Roberts*, 1610;
Ambrose Barlow, 1641;
Alban Roe, 1642.
Friar Obervant, John Jones*, 1598;
Franciscan, John Wall, 1679.
Secular Clergy:
Cuthbert Mayne, 1577;
Ralph Sherwin, Alexander Briant, 1581;
John Pain, Luke Kirby, 1582;
Edmund Gennings, Eustace White, Polydore Plasden, 1591;
John Boste, 1594;
John Almond, 1612;
John Southworth, 1654;
John Lloyd*, John Plessington, John Kemble, 1679.

Laymen:
Richard Gwyn*, poet and schoolmaster 1584;
Swithun Wells*, schoolmaster, 1591;
Philip Howard, Earl of Arundel and Surrey, died in prison (poisoned?) 1595;
John Rigby, household retainer of the Huddleston family, 1600.

Laywomen:
Margaret Clitherow, wife, mother, and schoolmistress, 1586;
Margaret Ward, for managing a priest's escape from prison, 1588;
Anne Line, widow, "harborer of priests", 1601.

But, obviously, I digress…
Back to John Almond….

John Almond was born in Allerton, near Liverpool [think Beatles]. His family moved to Ireland where he went to school. Along the way, John Almond responded to his priestly vocation.

John Almond went to Reims then, at age twenty, on to the English College in Rome where he was ordained in 1598. John Almond’s academic accomplishments were extraordinary – top of his class with honors and all that – an accomplishment I wish we were aspiring to – without such a goal it will not be achieved; and our talents will not be fulfilled, our potential not realized; we will have fewer, many fewer, than the ten thousand coins God is looking for us as an entry fee….

A man with the credentials and the gifts to be bishop or cardinal was called to the English Mission. John Almond was first arrested in 1602, having survived in service for four years. He was warned off his efforts but embraced his vocation to serve the Catholics in England. John Almond was imprisoned in 1608, released, and arrested again in 1612. Life in Tyburn Prison is infamous. As much as his captors tried to dissuade him from his beliefs, even torture him for recantation, John Almond sustained his faith and defended it eloquently.

With the Holy Name on his lips, John Almond was hung, drawn, and quartered.

One of the Forty Martyrs of England and Wales. A native of Allerton, England, he was educated in Ireland and then at Reims and in Rome. After his ordination in 1598, he returned to England as a missionary, and was arrested in 1602. John was imprisoned in 1608 for a time and arrested again in 1612. He was hanged, drawn, and quartered at Tyburn.






St. John the Wonder-Worker
December 5 d. 750

Like John Damascene, John the Wonder Worker was a defender of sacred images against the decree of Emperor Leo V the Armenian. Unlike John Damascene, John the Wonder Worker was not a high official in the court of the Saracen.

John the Wonder Worker was the Bishop of Polybatum. As much as the Emperor wanten to persecute even execute this mighty thorn in his side, John the Wonder Worker was responsible for so many miracles that he had not only the support of people high and low, he probably scared the heebie jeebies out of the Emperor.

With or without court support, know that you are a wonder worker in the hands of God. Defend your faith with your life, with how you live and how you die.





St. Sabas
December 5 439

Sabas was born in Mutalaska, near Caesarea to an army officer. Roman officers posted to the hinterlands not uncommonly acquired great wealth and property – apparently Sabas’ father had a substantial estate. When his father was posted to Alexandria, he left Sabas with his uncle. When he was eight [that is eight years old, today’s second grader], he ran away from his uncle’s abusiveness and went to another uncle. The two uncles fought over custody of the child – actually fighting for control of his estate. Sabas ran away from both of them to a monastery near Mutalaska.

Sabas’ uncles eventually reconciled and wanted him to marry. Sabas remained in the monastery and in 456 went to Jerusalem into a monastery under St. Theoctistus.

In 469, Sabas became hermit under St Euthymius. [Choose your teachers with care and purposefulness.] After Euthymius’ death, Sabas spent four years alone in the desert near Jericho.

Despite his desire to be alone [a desire I empathize with deeply], his holiness and erudition attracted disciples. He formed a community aka laura, like in fran’s daughter, in 483. His now 150+ monks wanted a priest in their community and persuaded Sabas to accept ordination in 491.

Word spread. Disciples came from Egypt and Armenia. Sabas was responsible for several hospitals and another monastery. The Patriarch appointed him archimandrite [chief hermit in Palestine].

Sabas was selected to petition the Emperor Anastasius I to end his persecution of orthodox bishops. His delegation was unsuccessful and supported Elias of Jerusalem [not the sports book guy] when the Emperor exiled him. Sabas was at the lead in opposition to Eutychianism, Origenism, and monophysitism: a strong supporter of orthodoxy [someone not such not likely to be canonized, right?] and persuaded many led into the –isms to return to the church.

In the Catholic Encyclopedia we get for Origenism: not so much Origen's theology and his teachings but a number of doctrines, rightly or wrongly attributed to him, and which by their novelty or their danger called forth at an early period a refutation from orthodox writers. They are chiefly:
Allegorism in the interpretation of Scripture
Subordination of the Divine Persons
The theory of successive trials and a final restoration.

Eutychianism and Monophysitism are usually seen as a single heresy for all those who, like Eutyches, rejected the orthodox expression "two natures" of Christ.


In 531 (at 91), Sabas made one more effort to plead with the Emperor, now Justinian. He asked the Emperor to protect the people of Jersualem from revolting Samaritans who were harassing the city. Sabas died soon after returning from this journey.

Sabas is considered the founder of Eastern Monasticism. [maybe a paper on Benedict and Sabas would be a worthy effort. Their lives. Their writings. Their influence today. Their importance for us in our humble daily journeys.] The laura he founded, aka monastery, is honored as the preeminent Laura of the day – as such or noteworthy as such, the Laura attracted many disciples and was the wellspring for many saints. One’s legacy for generations…. Each person you touch, each institution you effect impacts for generations like a pebble tossed into the lake ripples further and further for a long long time. [one reason I liked consulting in a school on behalf of one child. Surely we helped that child. And with whatever improvements we left with that teacher, we effected each of her other students, in that class and throughout her career; not to mention any impact she had on other teachers or principals…. A ripple effect, forever….]

I love you
dad

December 3 John of Damascus b. 645 d. 749

John and Thommy

Good morning
I love you

I’m playing hooky today. Not the model of excellence I’d imagined? Snow coming softly and very coldly and, for the roads, very slickly …. Beautiful when looking from inside; ok beautiful from the outside too but the cold puts an edge on it and my snow suit is snugger than it was last year [not a good thing]….

As the year ends, I’m reconnecting with places past. State government. Vanderbilt [that’d be a great gig]. Hospital friends not scattered around the country.

And I’m writing more, avoidance writing mingled with insight efforts. It’s still trashy and fantastical (mostly).

And you? Where oh where…? What oh what…? With whom? Why?
And all the dad question….

Remember the secret of a father’s love….

I love you….


St. John of Damascus
December 3 b. 645 d. 749
Eighth century – how do we know about a person from so long ago and so far away; though Damascus then was at the crossroads of east and west. How do we know about ourselves; our parents; our grandparents; even people of great public accomplishments and, thus, attention and the accompanying media coverage, thus records…. What do you want to know about your parents? What should you know? [that’d be hinted at by what you’re avoiding.]

As with our Irish saints, what we Know about John Damascene is truth and myth; the story of his life; more importantly, the effects of his life on others, including how that comes to us, his meaning for us, our, thus, duty to him….

John Damascene’s lineage remained Christian within the Arab/Muslim conquering of this early Christian center. Under the Sultan, his family had the responsibility to administer the Christian law to the Christians. Imagine if we had such an arrangement today. A truer separation of church and state than what we have, do you not think? Imagine a mechanism for administering the Catholic Law in a divorce petition? In which the priority of faith, family, and church preceded the individual and the ‘best interest of the child’ which would be read as the best interest of the family, faith, church, community. Maybe?

John Damascene’s father used his family’s wealth to buy and free the Christian slaves. What actions of your father would you put into your biography? You are your father’s son and…. What would you embrace of your grandfather’s life giving to you? [grandfathers’]

John Damascene was baptized as an infant by the bishop. There are some privileges of wealth. I was baptized by the parish priest, whose name I’ve never known, probably never told. [I have a birth certificate somewhere, it should be on there.] I was an infant baptized while my mother was still recouping in the hospital – back then a week for a birth was not uncommon. Uncle Frank and Aunt Putsie – my father’s older brother and my mother’s older sister – are my Godparents. You could have been baptized by the bishop of Nashville. Not because we were wealthy – tho a not unrich family. My contributions to the church don’t even show up in my tax returns (mostly). I was a writer for the diocesan newspaper and not uncommonly hung out at the diocese’s administrative offices and chatted with his eminence. If I’d asked I’m confident he’d have said yes, even though we were not members of his cathedral parish. But we, your mother and I, had agreed to have you baptized in the same city, in the same church, as it turns out, at the same font, as I was. And your parents’ brother and sister [a no show for the ceremonies tho] are your Godparents. Elizabeth of Hungary is the national church in America. Today, and in 1987 and 1989, it is administered by the Jesuits – a turn of events that makes is closer to my heart and experience. I asked my friend Kevin O’Connell, S.J. to preside over the baptisms – the same man who presided over the wedding [it was not his fault that the wedding was a fraud and the marriage annulled; although I’ve wished he had taken the time to ask the questions instead of assuming that the Newman center priest had done all that should have been done.] I met Kevin when I was a novice and he was studying theology. His biography is typically Jesuitical. His friendship remains to this day.

John Damascene’s father fortuitously came upon a Christian slave who was a learned monk, purchased his freedom, and asked him to tutor his son. Cosmas was his name. [Cosmas became the bishop of Majuma.]

John Damascene’s learnedness and stature caught the eye of the Saracens who compelled him to follow into his father’s high office. The Christian [and thus secular] controversy of the era was Icons – to use or not to use that was the question; and the side you took religiously imperiled your life because it also put you in one lord’s camp or another’s. John Damascene wrote three treatises on the Veneration due to Images in response to Leo the Isaurian’s decrees against them: about 730. John Damascene’s platform was protected by his position at court.

John Damascene was also ordained a priest sometime during this period. Priest and officer of the royal court. Our Catholic history is replete with men who held both church and state offices – some assumed the other, if a bishop, then also a lord of some sort; Henry VIII turned that formula around and imitated Caesar, if King then ruler of the Church [aka god?]; if loyal lord, then appointed bishop. Paul VI decreed that our priests not do both. Our Jesuits pushed the envelope, especially in South America’s liberation theology. I knew Bob Drinan, the Jesuit priest who became a congressman from chestnut hill in Boston; the Pope had to nudge him hard to get him out of office; obedience did finally assert itself.

John Damascene retired to the monastery of St. Sabas to finally devote himself to a life of prayer. And, more lastingly for us, devoted himself to religious poetry [even though it took a vision for his abbot to release him to fulfill his talents. Maybe those restraining you will have a vision to release you to fulfill your talents, to maximize your resources.]

We have honored John of Damascus with the title of Doctor of Christian Art, especially for his eloquent defense of iconoclasty.


I love you
dad