Late Nite Ash Wednesday

I love the Ash Wednesday Catholic Smiley.

+:)

I know it's late, but I don't have early Mass tomorrow.

A Good Way to Begin Lent: Thanks Tim!

For the second time in at least ten years the L.A. Times has actually printed something positive about Cardinal Mahony!

The first was an op-ed piece by Tim Rutten that appeared on January 31, basically saying that the grand jury investigation of the Cardinal, which was leaked to the press with very few details, was stupid.  See what he has to say here.

In today's Times, Rutten is being positively, almost effusively, complimentary to the Cardinal's Lenten message.  You can read what he has to say here.  Thanks, Tim.

What?  You haven't read the Cardinal's Lenten message to us?  Well, here it is.  I preached on it today too, so I agree with Tim; it's quite good and worth reflecting on as we start our Lent.  And not too long either.

According to the calendar, Ash Wednesday occurs this week and we begin another Lent.

Except for this year.

Lent actually began in 2007 for many thousands of families all across the Archdiocese of Los Angeles, and we have been in a long and protracted season of Lent ever since. In what sense? The annual Lenten season calls us to reflect more deeply into our lives with God, to re-order our personal priorities according to the Gospel, and to live out increased personal sacrifice in our daily living.

With the economy continuing to spiral downwards day after day, with millions of jobs being eliminated, with people unable to make their house payments thus losing their homes, and with so many fearful of what tomorrow might bring—we have truly been on a long Lenten journey over these past two years. Incredible difficulties have burdened families: parents ever fearful that they cannot provide for their children, the unknown financial calamity that lurks just around the corner, the awful feeling of being one paycheck away from complete financial meltdown.

In prior years when life and our financial security were far more predictable, Lent meant that we could choose which special sacrifices we wanted to undertake—but just for six weeks, until Easter Sunday. And then back to normal.

But now we have a new reality: we aren’t choosing our sacrifices this year, they have chosen us. And they aren’t just for six weeks; they have been our burden for over 75 weeks now with no sign of relief in sight.

This reality makes Lent 2009 unique and gives us the opportunity to enter this year’s Lenten journey from a fresh and life-giving spirit. Most Catholics in our Archdiocese do not need to select a special form of sacrifice this Lent; they already have more than their share. So, how do we act differently this year? 

Let me suggest that we recall the origin of the word “sacrifice.” It comes from two Latin words: sacrum and facere—meaning “to make sacred.” A sacrifice, then, is accepting an ongoing or new reality—usually burdensome—and turning that into something sacred, a source of God’s love and grace.

For me personally, this Lent means embracing the new wearisome burdens, difficulties, and unexpected hardships that have confronted me on my journey of life and faith. I can’t pretend that these difficult burdens aren’t there, nor can I try to somehow sneak around them and move on—neither approach works. What I must do is recognize them, embrace them, realize I can’t carry them alone, and “make sacred” all that surrounds me. 

On Ash Wednesday as the minister places ashes on our forehead, these words are said: “Repent and believe in the Gospel.” 

This year, those words have a far more profound meaning for me. “Repent” means putting aside my pride and my spirit of self-sufficiency, and realizing that the only life-giving path forward is to embrace humbly what surrounds me—knowing ever more deeply that God is far more present to me in the midst of helplessness and weakness than when there are fewer challenges.

“Believe in the Gospel” means to listen daily to each Gospel of Lent, to enter into the many realities which Jesus encountered, to walk alongside Him as He embraces opposition, rejection, and seeming abandonment. It means that I am walking along with God’s Son listening and observing Him deal with all that is on His path—realizing that He, in turn, is right next to me on my own path of life.

But there’s even more. Jesus never walks alone with just me; He walks with us as a family, as a community: “Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them” [Mt. 18:20]. 

For Lent 2009, each day I intend to offer my prayers and sacrifices of that day for a special group of co-disciples with Jesus: those out of work, families who have lost homes, parents who fear that they won’t have the money needed for their children, the many who have lost health insurance, the retired people whose retirement funds have been severely diminished, and all who fear each tomorrow.

Let us all journey and pray together these next six weeks, “making sacred” our many sacrifices!

If you want, you can also read it on the Archdiocesan website, which allows you to download your very own copy in a PDF file.

My Dad's 105th

My Dad was born 105 years ago today, February 25, 1904, on a farm near Aberdeen, South Dakota.  He died in 1995, not long after I became pastor at OLA.  Longevity genes run on both sides of my family.

Actually, he died of complications of advanced prostate cancer, which was diagnosed at a time when the likelihood was that something else would take him before the cancer did.  No matter what may take me in the end, I'm grateful that I don't have to look forward to that particular way of going.

He was, however, a great example to me not only of patience, both with his own afflictions and the care he gave to my mom in her needs and disabilities, but also of calm aceptance of all the conditions of life.  One example among many: In his mid-seventies, he developed macular degeneration, and soon faced the fact that he, and avid motorist, could no longe drive.  When he willingly gave up his keys and sold the car, there was not one word of complaint.  Whining was not for him.  Instead, he got a seniors/disabled bus pass, and for the very first time in his life boarded a city bus.  Grocery shopping was a three-block walk; anything else he needed, he went by bus.

A few months before he died, actualy two days after my birthday, September 8, 1994, I was listening to Garrison Keillor's "Writer's Almanac" and heard a poem, several words of which described him better than anything I ever heard or could have thought of.  The poem is William Meredith's "His Plans for Old Age," and the lines are:

... he is working on his ways

so that when he becomes set in them

as old people must, ...

his ways will have grace.

(The full text of the poem is unfortunately no longer online, probably for copyright reasons.)

I'm sure he never heard those words, and they probably would not have meant much to him if he had, certainly not as much as they mean to me.  In fact, the whole poem itself doesn't really apply nearly as much as these words taken out of context.  I think I'm so impressed with them because, more than anything, they express what of him that I am striving to live up to.  

As I experienced in him, I have no choice whether or not I will be set in my ways; my only real choice is what kind of ways I'll be set in.

His own taste in poetry ran more to what I guess we'd call doggerel.  One of his favorite was on a cheap plaque that was hanging in the kitchen:

Well, Dad, I guess it's no longer a dream . . .  

Update . . . and St. Damien

Well, I've been back at OLA almost a week, and it's been more than a week since I've posted something here.  So, a brief update:

I thoroughly enjoyed my first Sunday back at the parish since my surgery, and have come to realize it is true what they say: while I may be "feeling well" six weeks after the surgery, it really takes three months to get your strength and stamina back, i.e., to fully recover.  Even though Deacon Bob preached all the Masses, and I paced myself thoroughly enjoying the time I spent in the patio greeting so many wonderful friends, I spent the whole day feeling a reduced energy level, and was exhausted by the end of the day.

I see in this morning news that Blessed Damien de Veuster, Apostle of Molokai, will be canonized on October 11, 2009.  This is good news for us who are closely associated with his community.  He is, of course the patron of Damien High School in La Verne, and the Sacred Heart Fathers, his religious community, staff both Holy Name of Mary Parish and St. Paul the Apostle in Chino Hills.  Here are the news articles in the Hawaii Insider and the San Francisco Chronicle. 

Chaucer, Dolores, and I

Somebody just brought to my attention an interview with OLA parishioner Dolores Cullen that was published in the Inland Valley Daily Bulletin a couple of weeks ago.  You can find out a lot more about Geoffrrey Chaucer, Dolores and her research on her website, Celebrate Chaucer.  In the interview, she acknowdged me as one of he three influences in her work.  I'm grateful for the mention, and even more grateful to have been a part of this unique and wonderful enterprise.  There are many interwoven stories here, also involving William Shakespeare and such scholars as Clare Asquith, Peter Milward, SJ, and Nicole Coonradt.  At last the Mass at OLA last October 25, commemorating the 609th Anniversary of Chaucer's death, I had he great privilege of receiving Nicole into full communion with the Catholic Church.  (Read more in the OLA Bulletin for October 12 and October 19.)

The "Green Flash" at sunset

This evening, Valentine's Day, I saw the setting sun exhibit a fairly common, but rarely noticed, "green flash" at the moment the edge of the sun goes below the horizon.  (It's rarely if ever visible except over the ocean.)  For the first time ever I got a picture of it.  The sunset was at 5:37 pm.  Here are three photos in succession.  The first is a moment before the sun disappeared.

The second, showing the distinct green flash, was about 4 seconds later.  (You can see that it's a little greenish compared with the red-orange of the previous image.  To capture the bright green that can be seen with the unaided eye -- and which lasts about a second -- would require getting the exposure exactly right.)

On the third image, about 4 seconds later, it's all gone.

The green flash is caused by the prism-like refraction of the atmosphere under certain conditions.  NASA's Astronomy Picture of the Day has a good explanation of it.

YouTube has quite a few videos purporting to show the green flash, but this is the only one in which I can see it.  It's at 37 seconds.

You might be able to glimpse it on this one about 2 seconds before the end -- or it might be wishful thinking.  At any rate, the voice-over narration provides a good explanation.

Anybody else else have experience with the green flash at sunset (or sunrise!), or maybe pictures?  Let us know -- post a comment.

Green may not be the best color to end St. Valentine's Day, but St. Paddy's Day is just around the corner.

WWSVS?

WHAT WOULD ST. VALENTINE SAY  about all this?  Well, here's an eighteen-centuries-later reconstruction of what might have been his thoughts about what folks do to celebrate his feast day.  (It's from the The Onion, so please understand it's "tongue-in-cheek" -- even though hard to do with a severed head -- just a little, er, risque, and in deliciously bad taste.) 

I Wish I'd Spent Valentine's Day Eating a Prix Fixe Dinner, but I Was Too Busy Getting Beheaded

Happy day everyone!

What have I been doing?

It's been a little more than a week since my last post, and those of you who have been checking my blog have had your faithfulness tested.  What have I been doing this past week?

Well, I've put a fair amount of time into preparing to return to OLA.  I attended the Virtus recertification on Wednesday.  It was nice to see Frs. John Tran, John Bosco, and Peter O'Reilly.  Contrary to the impression you get from the LA Times and other media, the Catholic Church and the Archdiocese are serious, very serious, about the protection of our young people.  In addition, I've been in fairly regular contact with the parish office by phone and email, and am grateful for many parishioners and friends staying in touch by email and Facebook.

I'm well recovered from my prostatectomy on January 7.  The incision scar no longer looks too angry, and the inner stuff is relatively peaceful and seems to have almost forgiven me for letting this dude (sorry, Dr. Gazzaniga) mess around inside.  (BTW, Dr. Michael Gazzaniga is THE GREATEST, and I recommend him to any man who might need this sort of thing.  Memo to all men approaching their mature years, be sure to get your PSA checked regularly -- and the digital exam too.  And to any women who love them: nag them to do it!)

I'm planning to return to OLA next Tuesday, February 17, the memorial of the Seven Holy Founders of the Order of the Servants of Mary (Servites).  They staff two parishes in Orange Diocese, St. Juliana and St. Philip Benizi, both in Fullerton, and Servite High School, as well as the rather well known Sanctuary of Our Sorrowful Mother in Portland, Oregon.  When I was Director of Campous Ministry for the Archdiocese in the early 1990s, I was privileged to get to know, and count as a good friend, one of the most renowned members of the Servite Order, Fr. Marty Jenco, who was for several years campus minister at USC, after his experience as a hostage in Lebanon.  Fellow hostage and journalist Terry Anderson, has established a foundation in his honor for "rewarding visionary leadership in Appalachia."  His book, Bound to Forgive: the Pilgrimage to Reconciliation of a Beirut Hostage is one I highly recommend.  Sadly out of print, but some Amazon sellers are offering it for $.01 plus $3.99 shipping.  GRAB IT!  My enduring recollection of Marty is that his repeated phrase, no matter what misfortune fell to him, was "Thank you, Jesus."

Well, I'm doing what I intended to in this blog, and that is write a lot, stream-of-conscious, maybe letting you into a bit my own consciousness and life-pilgrimage, simply sharing what I can along the way.  This past week I've put a lot of time into transferring my email address list from the parish email sever to my own Gmail account.  Everyone on it will get a message from me in a day or so, asking them to change my address in their book to thomas.welbers@gmail.com, along with a link to this blog and Facebook.  Yes, I'm preparing for my move from OLA (to a parish not yet determined -- I'm told it may be a month or more before the assignments are finalized and published) this coming summer.  I'd like to be able to stay in touch with anyone who wants to be stayed in touch with.  

Stay tuned . . .

Clifton's and nostalgia

Yesterday the Food Section of the L.A. Times carried a feature article about Clifton's "Brookdale" Cafeteria in Downtown Los Angeles.  It brought back memories!

When I was a kid in grade school during the late 1940s and early '50s (remember I was an only child), I can remember my mom taking me on the old Red Car line from Van Nuys to Downtown several times a year.  She was a pretty good seamstress, and made all her, my, and my dad's clothing, and she always looked forward to those excursions to visit the old May Company, Bullock's, and Broadway looking for bargains in material.  Often we would have lunch at Clifton's, and I thought it was the neatest place in the world, with all those different levels, phony rocks and trees, and nooks and crannies, the nifty waterfall, and that really mysterious prayer chapel.  I recall that we would come home with bags and bags full of fabric, the total of which cost about $2.00.  She used to say how much she would love to be able to have a whole $5.00 to spend there! 

Ah, yes.  The Pacific Electric Red Cars!  I always awaited with eager anticipation the tunnel leading to the Subway Terminal.  

I'm not really a serious historian about old Los Angeles, but certainly have a nostalgic streak.  If you do too, you might be interested in these two sites:

"Los Angeles: Past, Present and Future" project at USC, and "A Visit to Old Los Angeles" at CSULB.

Update on 2/6: Another memory from today's LA Times:  See's Candies.  I have fond memories of the store on Van Nuys Blvd. in the 1950s, and the picture of Mary See always reminded me of my own grandmother.  I also enjoy periodically driving through See Canyon, named for the same family, which is between Avila Beach and San Luis Obispo -- really rustic and little known.

Rainy day reflections

My goodness, I can't believe it's been a week and a day since my last post.  What's been happening since then?  Well, yesterday marked four weeks since my surgery, and two weeks since the catheter was removed.  I'm still getting stronger, and visited the OLA parish office yesterday.  It was nice to be back and visit the wonderful folks there, but I was pretty exhausted when I got back here, a good sign that I'm still "on the mend."  I do have a target date for my return to OLA, and that's Tuesday, February 17.

One of the ways I've described my time of recovery from surgery is a gift of "enforced leisure."  I'm currently writing a bit on what that really means to me, and hope to post it soon.  Another way of describing my activity is "exploring the world from my laptop."  There will be more about that too.

I took a nice walk this morning to the local farmers' market, and got back just before the rain started.  I've enjoyed the past week of warmth, sunshine, and clear air.  And am enjoying the rain too.  Glad I got some exercise in; it will be a few days, I think, before I get more.

I've started an Early Christian World blog too, and the first two entries -- still a "work in progress" -- are about compiling a directory of Catholic Churches in Turkey.  Although Catholics are a tiny minority, less than half a percent, there is a strong and stable Catholic presence there.  However, information about them is not easy to come by, and takes some ferreting out.

I ran across two videos on Deacon Greg Kandra's The Deacon's Bench blog, which I want to share with you.  Deacon Greg's blog is one of the best for keeping up to date on the U.S. and worldwide Catholic scene.  I hope to say a little more about my favorite sources of internet info in a future post.

The first video really speaks to me of the challenges our world today puts to our faith.  See what you think:

(Update: I removed the video I had originally put up here on Nick Vujicic "Life without Limbs" because it rather intrusively started automatically.  You can learn all about him, and view videos, at his website: "Life without Limbs."  It is inspiring in the best sense of the word.)

By the way, I've posted a couple of comments on Deacon Greg's blog, you can view them here:

When a seminarian dies.

SSPX and married deacons: "completely unlawful"

Right now, however. it's naptime to allow the healing energy, awakened by this morning's walk, to get busy and do its thing -- so I'll be in tiptop shape when I get back into the ministerial saddle.