“Grand affair” is the only way to describe Mary’s 50th. Sunday was the last day of April and full of showers. The rain came down all day, but it did not dampen the spirit of the event. Jim’s homily was excellent. The soul of wit in its brevity, enchanting in its analogies, and worthy of the solemn, but blissful occasion. He even received hierarchical approval when the presiding episcopes, Bishop Cullen, referred to it in his remarks stating that indeed it was “in grateful awe we stand before the 450 years of service”. There were the nine jubiliarians who had each served 50 years.
Father Dick participated by reading the Gospel. He also generously accepted the congratulations of some attendees for his homily, the family resemblance scored again. But he graciously then passed it on to the “homily-giver” with much humor.
Therese attended in her wheelchair, so that Rosemary’s absence would not leave the Holy Child Order unrepresented. At the time of this writing, Roie and Therese are together at the New Sharon Infirmary in Rosemont. Roie was released on Wednesday, May 3rd to begin her rebuilding with some new plumbing.
Father Dick has published an article in the “Jesus Journal” of Winter 1994-95. Father’s Dick article reminded me of a passage I read recently in Thomas Cahill’s book “How the Irish Saved Civilization.” (The latter was a St. Patrick’s Day gift from Suzanne).
Just the thought of the two titles boggles the mind – Jesus having a journal and the Irish saving the world. It has a wonderland quality!
Nevertheless, this is what Dick wrote:
“Government had no power over the early church. There was nothing Caesar could take away from the early Christians but their lives; and they didn’t fear physical death. In the face of such a witness, the non-violent church, which required soldiers to resign in order to begin studies for Christian baptism became the largest religion in the Roman Empire. Emperor Constantine was no fool to the ways of the world and of governments. He knew that if he was going to obtain power over these Christian people through fear, he had to give them something, which he could take away from them. They must cooperate in giving this power to him by accepting what he could take away from them. He controlled the laws, so he gave them legal legitimacy. He controlled the land, so he gave them property rights. His successor, Theodosius made Christianity the state religion. The Christian Church accepted it all eagerly. And within four generations, by 416 A.D., one could not be in the Roman Army unless he was a Christian – a 180-degree reversal and perversion of the Christian witness, a perversion and twisting that prevails to this day.”
And, here is what Thomas Cahill has written:
” …Patrick’s gift to the Irish was his Christianity – the first de-Romanized Christianity in human history, a Christianity without the sociopolitical baggage of the Greco-Roman world, a Christianity that completely enculturated itself into the Irish scene. Through the Edict of Milan, which had legalized the new religion in 313 and made it the new emperor’s pet, Christianity had been received into Rome, not Rome into Christianity! Roman culture was little altered by the exchange, and it is arguable that Christianity lost much of its distinctiveness. But in the Patrician exchange, Ireland, lacking the power and implacable traditions of Rome, had been received into Christianity, which transformed Ireland into Something New, something never seen before – a Christian culture, where slavery and human sacrifice became unthinkable, and warfare, though impossible for humans to eradicate, diminished markedly… ”
” … As these transformed warrior children of Patrick’s heart lay down the swords of battle, flung away the knives of sacrifice, and cast aside the chains of slavery, they very much remained Irishmen and Irishwomen. Indeed, the survival of an Irish psychological identity is one of the marvels of the Irish story. Unlike the continental church fathers, the Irish never troubled themselves overmuch about eradicating pagan influences, which they tended to wink at and enjoy. The pagan festivals continued to be celebrated, which is why we today can still celebrate the Irish feasts of May Day and Halloween.”
“… Irish marriage customs remained most un-Roman. As late as the twelfth century – seven centuries after the conversion of the Irish to the Gospel – a husband or wife could call it quits and walk out for good on February 1, the feast of Embolic, which meant that Irish marriages were renewable yearly, like magazine subscriptions or insurance policies.”
Nothing terribly new here except the tendency today of certain parties to dismiss similar reasoning where and when rules or regulations issued from the “Roman” church are challenged. For example, the marriage of priests, the ordaining of women, the recognition of incompatible marriages, the acceptance of homosexuals, etc.
Along these lines, I read with interest the Archbishop of L.A. admitting into the Roman fold an Episcopal parish in Toto – married pastor and all! The Episcopal congregation had seceded from its mother church because the mother Church had voted to allow women to be ordained! It certainly was Christian of him to do so, but the ability to grant exceptions to the law is a great example of the Roman Church’s selective law enforcement.
The balancing of “rules” and the “spirit” of Christianity is a tough one. No one advocates anarchy, or at least no “reasonable” person does, so some order must prevail. But when does the order become so oppressive that it smothers the spirit? I don’t claim to know the answer, but it does seem to me in some matters the churches have given up the spirit to the rules.
But enough of this analyzing.
The month of May is here and it’s birthday time again. Margie also has one. By coincidence, over the past two weeks I ran into Marge, first on the platform of Suburban Station, on May 5th, and then again at Abington Hospital on May 9th. I reminded her on the last occasion that the next time we meet, she treats (which she did on May 17th). Marge was at Abington Hospital to see a new grandchild – a baby girl to son Paul and his wife. She has by this date celebrated her day, so she continues to remain older than I. Birthdays give us pause to thank all those who made it possible and who make celebrating them a joy. I had two reminders of how lucky and blessed I am, with two clients who are in poor health. One has cancer and is now in a nursing home, and the other recently had a stroke (but she’s coming home to the health center at Paul’s Run today!) It is such a great gift to be able to physically do the things I do and the doing makes life all the more enjoyable.
Speaking of good health reminds me that happily Sister Rosemary is regaining hers quickly. She was even swimming with her “keeper”, Anne. I feel for her and the process, but I also know it’s worth the effort.
Today the country celebrates Mother’s Day. My memory is of Mom’s hard work and good humor. I marvel at the job she did with just the numbers, children, meals, colds, schools, clothes, etc., etc. I marvel at how she gave up a possible career to make a family and made it a career. I regret not knowing her better, but the Lord decided otherwise. I remember a walk on the beach in Sea Isle when I explained my decision to leave the seminary, since I had begun to realize that girls were more than soft boys. She, in her characteristic way, indicated it was good to realize I might not be a good priest, i.e., a chaste one, now rather than later when it might be too late. She would support me. She did so and was my advocate before the high court, in everything I endeavored. I’m sure all my brothers and sisters would say the same -she was one to all who were lead to believe they were they only important one. A masterful job of mothering in the best sense of the word.
The second time I saw my father cry was when she died, and now, as then, I know why. I feel her influence even now. I also rejoice in my Suzanne’s decision to include her name, “Cosgrove”, in Kate’s name. Though Suzanne never met my mother, she felt, apparently, the kinship, enough to wish to have her name be part of her firstborn’s. By the way, the first time I saw my father cry I was about 6 or 7 years old and grandmother Cosgrove had died. She had lived with us.
Birthdays are for children. I, being a child, enjoy them. I love the cards, the greetings in song and voices over the phone, particularly the ones from grandchildren, who also ask with a bit of wonder in the voice “How old are you Pop-Pop?” – to which I respond “6 and 6”. I then ask, “How old are you?” and get replies like 8 or 10 or such, to which I respond, “See, I’m not much older 6 & 6 make 12, and you are whatever!” (They used to believe some of this stuff!).
My “main squeeze” took me out to dine in honor of the occasion. She is still only my main “semi”-squeeze due to ribs that continue to complain when touched, but she is back walking and the knees are healed.
The dinner was excellent, and I performed for the entire small restaurant by falling off the chair – it was a rather loose jointed one and the floor was slightly slanted. I reached for my fallen napkin and the chair and I headed down to meet it – all in slow motion, or so it seemed! The restaurant was “Ristorante Gregorio” on Cottman Avenue. The spot has been marked where the fall occurred for all who wish to go and visit. They also serve non-alcoholic beverages. The cause of the tumble must be strictly attributed to gravity and/or poor reflexes. Other causes are under investigation and will be reported upon in later reviews.
The cards received were all great, but one from Bill and Bunny King gets honorable mention. It found a bearded, ancient gentleman on the mountaintop, sitting in a yoga position. He says, “With age comes wisdom.” Inside it reads, “Isn’t that right Oh Enlightened One?” (Happy Birthday)” How did they know? I try so hard to keep it a secret. So much so I have trouble acknowledging it myself, especially when incidents as just described above seem to speak otherwise.
The month will close with Memorial Day and a visit to Avalon. We will close with thanks for all your compliments and encouragement regarding these scratchings.
Remember, the best way to pay for a lovely moment is to enjoy it! (R. Bach)