Eduardo Munoz / Reuters / OSV News / Feb. 26
View from the pew
If you use a photo storage function on a mobile phone or other electronic device, you can relate to my dilemma. It’s become a replica of the closet that is stuffed with unneeded things, an overwhelming challenge to tackle clearing it out. So I just shut the door and ignore it. But unlike the dormant closet, the tech tool will start nagging about storage space overload.
Looking back through snapshots chronicling a long summer vacation immersed in family togetherness, I did start housecleaning, especially with each barrage of the same shot clicked multiple times in hopes of catching everyone with eyes open at the same time. Delete, delete, delete, repeat.
It led me to do some soul-searching, because it was a trip with stimulating and memorable positive highlights but also some uncomfortable, unhappy low points, memories which I wish I could delete.
Our luggage was loaded with macadamia nuts and candy, Portuguese sausage, banana-mac pancake mix, crack seed, etc., to fulfill family desires. We took way too many clothes which proved not in synch with unpredictable Mother Nature’s agenda: cool autumn-like days instead of the expected hot and muggy summer.
We came this year burdened with the walker which I consider my “cross to bear,” but in reality it’s my sister who has to open, fold, stash and tote the darn thing. It was always in someone’s way, which led me to feel the same about myself.
I went poorly equipped into the annual compressed and intense family and old friends’ immersion back in our Midwest roots. I forgot to pack my usual spiritual walkers: the “Word Among Us” monthly meditations on daily Mass liturgy and a tattered little prayer book full of taped in additions from down through the years.
So the good Lord — and some alert listeners in other rooms — had to endure a whole lot of “poor me” muttering from a moody traveler.
I like to think I always come equipped with my sense of humor, but I guess the battery ran low during maneuvering in challenging physical and emotional territory. Looking back, I wish we had just shared opposing views then switched on the laughter, agreeing we disagree.
Our family spats weren’t around warring views of politics; we spun off into orbit when talk devolved into our opinions about what the younger generations do and their perceptions about what the senior-citizen generation should not do.
I came away thinking about all the island families with multiple generations packed together. How can you do it?
Even had I had a prayer book in hand, I can attest that I would have gotten nowhere had I suggested that we pray together. Enough said.
But there was a bit of prayer involved during the major highlight of happy times for all of us. That’s one massive set of photos that I will not delete.
We were celebrating the wedding of a beloved family member and his bride, each of whom is a heartily welcomed addition to their expanded families.
It was not the wedding in a church that readers of “View from the pew” might expect. This celebration took place in a venue that could match space in any cathedral.
It was a century-old brick building, massive beams in tall ceilings, that was designed as a drying shed for tobacco leaves. Now booked year-round as a wedding location, it includes space for the congregation gathering at the ceremony, as well as room for the reception and dining afterward.
The parties processed into the scene as a disc jockey spun their favorite songs, the vows were personally written, and a family member with newly acquired credentials officiated.
God was included in the gathering through scriptural readings by the bride’s mother. She said that the couple “requested that some words from our Lord be a part of their day. With that, we pray in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.”
She read from the Old Testament’s Book of Proverbs: “Let love and faithfulness never leave you. Bind them around your neck, write them on the tablet of your heart. Then you will win favor and a good name in the sight of God and man. Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”
“Her father and I couldn’t be happier that you two will carry this love with a strong foundation in God, lifting each other forward through life in him,” said the mother of the bride.
She also read from St. Paul’s Letter to the Ephesians: “‘Husbands, love your wives as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her, that he might sanctify her.’ St. Paul tells us that they shall leave their father and mother and be joined as the two shall become one. Amen.”
I think I was taking some of that message to heart; I needed to hear “do not be afraid, do not be discouraged” and that God is with me wherever I go. No wonder I wiped out my entire purse supply of tissues — with a lot of help from the groom’s mother beside me.
Tears are us, even in happy times.
Based on my religion writer background, I was invited to do a prayer before the meal. I confess that I drew inspiration from a friend’s copy of the late Father Andrew Greeley’s “A Book of Irish American Blessings and Prayers.”
Thanks to the disc jockey’s introduction and great sound system, the crowd noise actually subsided for my brief words:
“May the Lord bless us and the meal we share. May our sharing in this happy event fill us with gratitude, friendship, love and peace. If anyone in this crowd is a stranger to you, please make them a new friend. May God bless Colin and McKenzie and may they always find in each other love, laughter, adventure and courage in times of stress or hardship.”
Unlike a typical long-winded kahu blessing at a groundbreaking or an ad-libbing evangelical speaker on a roll, I stopped short, said a quick amen and released the happy horde to head for the buffet line.
Father Greeley’s version went on to include thanking the cooks and “people who come in need.” That man had a blessing for everything; I considered including his “Prayer for Labor Day” — which was a couple days away — honoring the many working people who were behind the feast, agricultural workers in grueling harvesting and meat processing jobs, packagers, distributors, cooks and the serving crew in our midst. But it would be going off the main message, so I resisted. Hard to believe, I suppose, that I could be a person of few words.
When I was reunited with the missalette at home, I found that the Mass liturgy for the date of the wedding included a Gospel reading about a wedding. Jesus talked about a tradition of his time for bridesmaids to carry lighted lamps to welcome an arriving bridegroom. The message was about being prepared to greet God when your end time has come.
Now that would certainly not be in the right spirit for a wedding celebration. Had it been a church wedding, there are many optional scriptural readings, starting with the creation of Adam and Eve.
I thought a good choice for the occasion would be the popular Gospel reading about Jesus’ first miracle. It took place at a wedding in Cana in Galilee at the start of Jesus’ teaching ministry. He and his mother were among the guests and Mary pointed out to her son that the wine was running low.
As the story goes, he balked at first. But his mother told servants to do whatever her son told them to do. Jesus told the servants to fill the empty jars with water. He then blessed them and the water was turned into wine, to the amazement of hosts and guests.
That is one of the Bible stories I consider so endearing because it is about a grassroots event that the Gospel writers chose to record. Let me just say that it would have been a popular story with that Midwestern wedding crowd whose imbibing continued beyond the reception’s end.
Although it was not the traditional Mass format to meet a regular churchgoer’s expectations, it reminded me of times when non-Catholics I know expressed confusion at a Catholic wedding or funeral. They don’t realize, and sometimes are impatient with, our tradition. Each liturgy celebrates our being in the presence of God, no matter what the particular event.
Back home now, I’m back to smiles sorting through photos and reliving good memories.
There’s more than the wedding as cause for celebration; another young ‘un is choosing a new path in life’s journey and we cheer her on. We never fail to record a meal together with family members and friends. We’re rich to have generations of us together. We’re always exhilarated returning to the wide-open spaces of our birthplace.
The tense moments and self-pity are fading. Wouldn’t you know it, I found just the prayer to get me there, tucked in the tattered prayer book. When I mention it’s from a “Prayer of Those Growing Older,” I can just hear the family giggling. Here’s some of it:
“Lord, you know me better than I know myself. Keep me from the fatal habit of thinking I must say something on every subject and on every occasion. Release me from the craving to try to straighten out everybody’s affairs. Make me thoughtful but not moody; helpful but not bossy.
“Keep my mind free from the recital of endless details, give me wings to get to the point.
“Keep me reasonably sweet, I do not want to be a saint — some of them are so hard to live with — but a sour old person is one of the crowning works of the devil.
“Give me the ability to see good things in unexpected places and talents in unexpected people. And give me, Lord, the grace to tell them so.”
I can just hear the loud chorus of “Amen.”
