Nov 14, 2009 | Latest
BLOGIC: An Introduction
Long ago, when Sean first asked me to write for OurSeton, I sent a few samples to see if they were what he was looking for. One of those was a logic piece with a title that was long and cumbersome and another was a continuation of the theme with a longer and more cumbersome title. Things happened, and I never used either piece. More things happened and I decided to use them. Then other things….you get the idea. The time arrived to use the first, but it needed a new title. I remembered from the very first posting that Mrs. Ferri had used the word elision to teach us where the word blog comes from. I thought this was a perfect opportunity to put into practice this word and came up with the above title. To be sure I was using elision correctly, I looked it up and sadly this title is not an application of the word. Elisions require that at least one letter of a word is left out as in o’er for over. My word, blogic, uses all of the letters of blog and logic. So I guess it is a fusion rather than an elision. Still, it is a great word. I think we should refer to whatever it is I am doing here as Blogic, rather than a blog. Blog seems weighted and slow, as in bogged down. But Blogic, because of the softened “g”, connotes wisdom, truth, reason, apple pie, the American way and all good things.
There are many people who influenced my decisions to and then not to and finally to post a modification of the original piece. In order of appearance in the decision historically: Mrs. O’Herron, President Obama, Sister Rose Marie, St. Alphonsus Liguori, Leo White, Gage Arnold, Mysterious Person, Carter Stevens. I thank all of you. (These people are identified at the end of this posting, except for Mysterious Person who will remain forever a mystery.)
Here is an aside. One thing that has been bothering me a little, is the normal process to get to Blogic. One goes to OurSeton’s home page and then scrolls down to that picture and if really bored reads again that beginning of an introduction about me. The next step is to click on read more. This implies there is more to read about me biographically. Instead, there is the latest posting. Maybe the picture could be changed to one of Aristotle; the biography stuff eliminated. [My sisters Kath and Mrs. Carroll wrote more of a biography – Kath taking my childhood and Mrs. Carroll continuing from where she left off. I have never seen this and it may be lost to humanity.]
Before we get to the original inspired by Mrs. O’Herron, let us consider what Sister Rose Marie told me. She said that in whatever we write, we should follow the advice of St. Alphonsus Liguori: [roughly paraphrased] write only to promote the truth positively without criticism of others, then we shall never fail in charity. I have given this some thought. It seems that often times we come to understand the good by seeing what is bad in the wrong. If this is the purpose of criticism, then it seems to be of value in promoting virtue.
Here is an example. According to the Weekly Standard 11/24/08 there are three countries which have or are considering these: giving rights to nature (Ecuador); declaring constitutionally that some plants have an intrinsic dignity because of their cellular and molecular similarities to humans (Switzerland) [I think this must include the cucumber which I understand has many similarities to us]; devolving humans into a community of equals with chimps and gorillas (Spain). It is probably beneath us to criticize these things, but being aware of them may help us to see what ails our planet that might lead to such ideas. I contend it is lack of knowledge – not knowledge that’s an accumulation of facts and principles, but knowledge as a Gift of the Holy Spirit. The Gift of Knowledge makes us look at creatures from the viewpoint of their relation to their Maker. All is creature except for the Maker. Therefore, knowledge would give us greater appreciation of Blessed Mother, the Angels, the Saints. It would give us a better appreciation of the elderly, the baby in the womb, our neighbors and family, ourselves. It would also help us to keep in perspective the gifts of animal and plant life as we relate all to the Maker. Is it criticism to say that some of mankind has gotten a little out of whack in relating creatures to God? I think I need to read more of what St. Alphonsus said on this.
This is too long now to give the adapted version of the piece Mrs. O’Herron inspired. We will do that another day. Here are the identifications of the inspirers.
Mrs. O’Herron: mother of 8 alumni and a guidance counselor at Seton///// President Obama: US President////Sister Rose Marie: Poor Clare nun and sister of Seton teachers Dick and Bob Pennefather//// St. Alphonsus Liguori: 18th Century saint, founder of the Redemptorists/////Leo White: college classmate turned college professor/////Gage Arnold: Class of ‘09/////Mysterious Person: at one time, perhaps, resided south of the North Pole////Carter Stevens: Class of ’08.
Jezu, ufam Tobie.
Nov 5, 2009 | Latest
A couple of notes:
Congratulations to Seton dad Ken Cuccinelli on his election to Attorney General of Virginia and to alumni dad Bob Marshall on his re-election to his 10th term as a Virginia Delegate.
Check out Glenn Gregory’s comment on the last blog entry – he waxes nostalgic and hilarious when he considers his World Culture days.
UNTIL DEATH DO US PART
November 3rd , Mom and I were outside on a beautiful day: perfectly blue skies, 60 degrees, not the slightest breeze and that November desert-like quiet. I said to Mom that it was so quiet because all the song birds had gone south for the winter. Just then two robins came flying by and one, of course, was chirping. But that was it. It was so calm and tranquil. Still thinking about the Small Ball Game, I think, I began making snowballs from the patchy snow that remained from the foot that had fallen a couple days earlier, and I began throwing them toward a big barrel that we sometimes burn trash in. My success rate of making a basket was terrible. I’d throw a right hand, then a left hand and after many throws had only made one of each. My goal was to make a right and a left consecutively. The barrel was 38’ away (I just went out and measured with a yardstick), and my failure may have been because, like snowflakes, no two snowballs were exactly alike. We had been out for over an hour, and Mom was ready to go in. So I made two last snowballs, threw with the right – perfect throw. Threw with the left – perfect throw. Obviously, I am great under pressure. It was a tremendously exciting moment which Mom did not seem to care about in the least. But considering that it is November, I think Mom was right to be unimpressed.
November has a beginning like no other month. We first have the exultant joy of All Saints Day as we look forward to our place in the Heavenly Kingdom, then we are immediately brought back to earth, so to speak, as we consider the Poor Souls and are reminded of our own sinfulness and need for penance. This somber mood prevails liturgically through most of the month dedicated to the Church Suffering. And it prevails environmentally, at least in this hemisphere at this latitude. The trees are silhouettes of their former selves having shed their recent glorious past; the birdsong has quieted; the crops are harvested except for the desiccating field corn which hangs limply on brown stalks; the green sprouts of winter wheat stand in contrast to the prevailing brown, but even it is a reminder that unless the grain of wheat shall fall into the ground and die, it remains lifeless.
The Mass readings as we approach the Feast of Christ the King call us to consider the Four Last Things: Death, Judgment, Heaven and Hell. We are asked to consider four things we know very little about. We have undergone the death and rebirth of Baptism that has given us the life that no one can take from us, while we remain in this mortal body that we will one day, for a time, leave behind. We can define death: the separation of soul and body, but then we are left only with imaginings. Lifelong partners from the womb, it must be a strange event to be suddenly separated from the body; to leave it behind to its decay while we now begin a quasi-assumption to our Particular Judgment. Perhaps in this separation we will first truly appreciate what this union of soul and body is — how united they make us the microcosm of the universe and little less than the angels. The separation will surely make us look forward to our reunion with the body at the resurrection. The soul must come to Our Lord without its partner. It gives us the image of standing naked before Him Who knows all things and from Whom we can keep no secret. It is both sobering and liberating to consider this. Sobering because we will clearly see how what we have been has made us who we are; liberating because the facades of this life are removed and no pretense is possible.
The soul will undergo its purification without the body, but we will know that the cleansing will make our souls suitable partners for the resurrected body in its glorified state.
The last three verses of “For All the Saints” gives us an idea of what we are saying here.
The golden evening brightens in the west;
Soon, soon to faithful warriors comes their rest;
Sweet is the calm of paradise the blest.
But then there breaks a yet more glorious day;
The saints triumphant rise in bright array;
The King of glory passes on His way.
From earth’s wide bounds, from ocean’s farthest coast
Through gates of pearl streams in the countless host,
Singing to the Father, Son and Holy Ghost.
Jezum, ufam Tobie.
Oct 25, 2009 | Latest
WHEN THE LIGHTBULB GOES ON
Who will bell the cat? Is the story connected with this question still commonly known? Perhaps not, so here it is in brief. A group of house mice are being terrorized by a cat. They have a meeting to determine what to do. A young mouse suggests that a bell be put on the cat so all mice will know when it is near. The youngster is hailed for his plan. Then a wise, old mouse asks, “And who will bell the cat?” The idea, which at first sounded so good, is now shown to be impractical. Fair to say, belling the cat was not a good idea. Age’s wisdom triumph’s youth’s rashness.
However, this story could have a different ending – one that would exalt the daring of youth rather than the wisdom of age. After the old mouse asks his question, a young mouse could call out, ”I will try to bell the cat. It would be better to die in an act of heroism than live the life of a coward in fear. Who is with me?” Several other young mice join the crusade. The story ends with us never knowing whether the cat is successfully belled or not.
Great ideas often require exceptional individuals to make them a reality. It is not so hard to dream up schemes, but it is often difficult to carry them out. I’ve had bad and good ideas, but it seems, almost always, the good ones needed someone exceptional to bring the idea to reality. In the early years of Seton, we often came up with ideas for social events that we would throw together almost spur-of-the-moment. If we got the Brock, Gregory and Muench families behind them, they were bound to be a success.
One time we (actually I) came up with the idea of a box social with the boys bringing the meals and the girls bidding on them. We decided to have it as an evening event. It sounded fun to me. Mr. Scheetz and I were the sponsors, so we arrived early to set up tables and chairs in the old carpeted gym. Then we waited for the students. Here they came: two boys with dinners in hand and zero girls. It was hilarious. We sat down with the boys and ate their meals. They were good – it was my first taste of Rice-a-Roni. We spent the evening laughing about the failed event. In our conversation we decided that we should try to come up with a worse event that would be an even greater failure and then advertise it with posters around the school. We decided on the first annual “Winter Hike and Tin Can Collecting Expedition”. We should have added on that after the hike there would be a box social with every meal featuring liver and onions because there were students who inquired about the hike. So I guess the box social remains the greatest failure of Seton social events ever.
I was trying to think of my greatest contribution to Seton’s social life. I think it might be The Small Ball Game that I invented for the first St. Nick’s Carnival. The first carnivals were held in the downstairs classrooms of the old building and in the carpeted gym. The posters for the novel carnival event read “The Small Ball Game – it might be fun.” and included a drawing of the actual size of the small ball. The object of the game was to bounce a small ball (one of the super bouncing balls) into a tall, narrow wicker basket. The balls didn’t bounce true, so it was a challenge. I would still enjoy playing this game to this day.
The only other game I remember from that first carnival was Mr. P’s contribution. He had people stuff marshmallows in their mouths and then try to whistle. Well, that might be fun, but I’ll take the Small Ball Game over the Whistling Marshmallow Mouth Game any day. The Small Ball Game – it was fun.
Jezu, ufam Tobie.
Oct 14, 2009 | Latest
No Age Discrimination
OK, the Rockies lost, but the Broncos keep winning, the Daniel brothers won the golf tournament and Seton beat FCS in volleyball. Therefore, it is fine to keep talking sports. I was thinking you might be interested in my college athletic career. (Don’t have a lot of time to write right now.) This idea came to me because I am still trying to dejunk around here and am still going through Mom’s things. I found a box of very old financial records and was about to throw it out when I noticed three Christendom College newsletters underneath the bank statements. They are dated December ‘77, February ’78 and December ’80. Why Mom saved these three particular ones, I do not know, but each of them have something about my athletic accomplishments.
The ’78 one talks about a football game we had when classes were cancelled due to a big snow. I remember this game because it was fun to slide around in the snow. What I didn’t remember is that the teams were called the Eskimos and the Polar Bears. I must have been on the Eskimos because it says the Bears were heavily favored. However, the Eskimos won after an interception and a fumble recovery led to scores. Let’s assume I was involved in creating those turnovers. What is most funny to me about the little article is that it says the game was dubbed the Canuck Bowl and “will become an annual event”. At least in the next three years that I was at CC this annual event was never held – probably due to a lack of snow.
Now we fast-forward to senior year – the ’80 edition. Two sports articles mention me. The first is about the Festival of Leaves 10K race in Front Royal. I am prominently listed among the “also rans” – in fact, I am the last in the list. Laura Spooner who taught a year at Seton was 5th amongst all girl runners and won a medal. She was obviously trying to steal the thunder of the also rans. On the back page of this same edition there is a good picture of #15 taking a jump shot in the RMA Tip-off Tournament. The headline says that I made the all-tournament team. This I do remember. We lost to RMA in the opening round 87-37. I think we had a bad 2nd half which followed a bad first half. There’s nothing about my play in that game though the leading scorer and rebounder are given. I was probably trying to get everyone involved in our 37 points worth of offense. In the consolation game we played Massanutten. We trailed at half-time, but came back in a thriller to win by two. I almost matched my jersey # with 13 points. Making the all-tournament team was definitely a great accomplishment considering that I started college two years after high school and was a senior in college at the time playing in a high school tournament and was therefore six to nine years older than anyone else who made the team. CC was guaranteed a selection, and I was the only one who had played in high school. Nonetheless, I am still waiting for the announcement that CC has decided to induct me into the Crusader Hall of Fame. I’ve been rehearsing an acceptance speech for the past 29 years.
Now we go back to ’77. On the front page of the newsletter is this headline “Westhoff Wins Ping Pong Tournament”. CC was obviously a bustling place that first semester of its existence. The actual date of my table tennis feat was November 10th – might celebrate the 32nd anniversary here in a few weeks. Among those entered in the tournament were Dr. Carroll, Mr. O’Herron and Sister John Eudes of whom the book The Trouble with Angels was written. Sister was CC’s librarian. I was ready for this tournament because I had followed the sage advice “for every hour spent in class spend two hours playing ping pong”. There were three finalists: Loretta Davison, Leo White and I. To show how I get no respect, here’s what my good friend Pat Hartnett wrote. “White was heavily favored to win his match with Westhoff, since the latter had never won in practice. To everyone’s amazement, Westhoff took the first two games of the three game series to win.” I was richly rewarded with the grand prize of a pen and pencil set. Have to admit I don’t remember the pen and pencil, but I probably wore them out signing my autograph on ping pong balls.
Better get back to working on that speech.
Jezu, ufam Tobie
Oct 4, 2009 | Latest
HOMECOMING
I have been going through some of Mom’s things and came across a letter I had written home eleven years ago. I don’t have a good memory for details, so I found much of what I had to say in that letter news again. The letter covered something important and I think of interest, so I was going to reprint some of it here. Then yesterday, my brother Jim came by and brought our week’s worth of mail from the mailbox, and there was a package from Joe Angsten (’89) It contained a great present which none of you could really appreciate unless you are particularly fond of replica gold-plated opened sardine cans. With this extraordinary gift was a letter that put a stop to the presses that were printing mine. It is a letter, unlike the sardine can, that I think you will all enjoy. I do not think I have ever laughed harder at any letter. It’s about Seton sports. A sports entry is due here since the Rockies have made the playoffs after a terrible start, and since I received a phone call from Blaise Dufrain (’08) who was in Colorado Springs with the Dallas University soccer team having played a team from Milwaukee and Colorado College. I really appreciated the call. So I went from hearing of Blaise’s college exploits, to reading about Joe’s coaching debut. The two experiences combined lead me to say, “God bless Dan Vander Woude; God bless all Seton coaches; God bless Seton parents and players and spectators and may God give success to the Torres’ efforts to acquire fields for Seton. Here’s the letter.
As you know, my eldest son is now a seventh grader at Seton, and we are so happy to be back in the fold. I am now coaching the Jr. High Soccer Team, and so far we are off to a good start (a little better than the Seton football team of the 1970’s). I will admit I was a little concerned how our re-introduction to Seton would go, until I received the call from Dan about our first game.
The setting: 1st Jr. High soccer game scheduled to be a home game at Nokesville Park.
The day of the Game I receive a call from Dan.
Dan: Joe, there has been a slight change in plans. It’s up to you if you want to reschedule.
Joe: Let’s play the game – whatever it is we can handle it.
Dan: We cannot use Nokesville Park. But the County said we could use fields at Chinn Aquatic Center (in Woodbridge).
Joe: Ohh, that’s a big change…but that’s fine. Let’s play! (I say with enthusiasm.)
Dan: Great. Thanks Joe. Now you will just need to get the nets and the corner flags from the storage room.
Joe: No problem, where’s the storage room? (My concern slowly disappearing as this is starting to sound more like the Seton I knew.)
Meanwhile back at the school, unbeknownst to the new coach, the varsity team takes the nets. Joe dutifully arrives at Seton to pick up nets and flags. No nets, hhmmmmmmm…..no flags….Seton mother Mrs. Cooper introduces herself to confused new coach. (Confused but getting happier as the search goes on.) She has Dan on the phone.
Dan: Joe, sorry the nets are gone. Just get the sticks. They don’t have to have flags, just get what you can and go. I will try to have someone bring you the nets.
Joe: Don’t worry about the nets. We’ll make do. (Enthusiasm growing; concern dissipating.)
I run out to the car to open the bin of jerseys Dan gave me for the team. I gather the boys around to distribute the jerseys, and to my utter glee they don’t match! Some say “Seton” and some say “Addidas”. But the best part is #31. You guessed it: the “1” is DUCT TAPE! (Concern GONE, enthusiasm overwhelming.)
As the game gets underway my parents (you may remember them from such roles as Most School Spirited 1989) inform me that my sister Laura called and is waiting for the game to start at Nokesville Park. I knew I had forgotten to tell someone.
At halftime, I am informed by a Seton Mom that the three corner poles (yes, there are four corners to a soccer field) are needed for the volleyball team. As it turns out, those are no ordinary poles the new coach grabbed – they are volleyball antennas. So we finish the game with no poles, no nets and duct taped jerseys. The “Volleyball Mom” was so apologetic, but I told her don’t worry about it. She had no idea of the internal happiness I was feeling that those poles needed to be taken back to Seton. The new coach couldn’t be happier. Who cares that we won 3-2, this was a homecoming!
—————————————————————
It is easy to tell from this that Joe is being re-introduced to Seton. Calling Mrs. Cooper “a Seton Mom” is like calling Mrs. Carroll “a Seton Teacher”. This letter brings back happy memories – like the day I turned over the AD duties to Mr. Hines. And the time the girls volleyball team was playing in a tournament at SVCA. Mrs. Carroll was sitting in the stands near some SVCA parents who were commenting on our team: “Couldn’t they all at least have white shorts.” “To play sharp, you have to look sharp.” We lost our first game – neither playing nor looking sharp, but came back through the losers’ bracket, still not looking that sharp but playing much better, to the championship games against SVCA. We had to beat the sharp looking team twice since it was double-elimination, and the team in various colored sweat pants and shorts beat the team with the matching uniforms. It also brings back visions of Mr. Vander Woude that first basketball season back in ’81 using masking tape to transform our illegal numbered jerseys into legal ones. (There was a lot to learn those first years.) Then there was some basketball game, I think it was junior high girls, when I looked out on the court at the five girls playing and realized that not one jersey was a match to any other.
So, #31 you wear that jersey with pride the whole year ****Addidas wearers – never forget that you are a Conquistador no matter what the jersey says****Laura, we all hope you have gotten to see your nephew play a full game****Joe, volleyball antennas are very expensive – leave them in the gym****Volleyball Mom, Did the antennas make it back from Woodbridge for the start of the game?****Seton sports fans: You can go to Virginia Independent Schools Sports and see state rankings and results of volleyball games. Last poll had Seton Soccer #8 and Volleyball #4**** To anyone who began reading hoping to hear about the locust prediction: They were right! I’ll tell you the details later.
Joe and my mom would have gotten along great. Whenever there was some problem, foul up, trouble or whatever, Mom would say, “It all just adds to the fun.” Mom and Joe are probably among the few who would have found all the difficulties of that first game so enjoyable. Thanks for the letter – hope the rest of the season was as much fun and successful as the beginning.
Jezu, ufam Tobie
Oct 2, 2009 | Latest
The following is the funeral homily that Father Hudgins gave at Mrs. Jones’ funeral Mass, September 25, 2008.
Thanks first to Steve and to Carol’s family. It is indeed an honor for me to be able to preside at Carol’s funeral. Thanks also to the Seton Choir. I had a chance to talk to Carol in the weeks before she died about the music that she would like and when I suggested the Seton Choir, she lit up. I’m so happy the Seton Choir could be here to sing because she loved you so much.
I knew Carol for the last five years of her life. She came to me for spiritual direction, so I do believe, then, that I knew her soul. One day she came in for direction, and she was all beaming, all joyful. She said, “I’ve got to share this prayer with you. I just have to share it. I just love it.” She had written down this prayer, and I have kept it with me ever since.
I love You, O my God, and my only desire is to love You until the last breath of my life. I love You, O my infinitely lovable God, and I would rather die loving You than live without loving You. I love You, Lord, and the only grace I ask is to love You eternally. My God, if my tongue cannot say in every moment that I love You, I want my heart to repeat it to You as often as I draw breath. [St. John Vianney]
I had the chance to talk to Carol more than anyone lse I’ve ever talked to before death, for months and months. One night while she was at Walter Reed Hospital, she gave me a call. She sounded upset, and she told me, “I want to talk.” So I drove to Walter Reed – the diagnosis had been for the worst. It was now clear that the chemo treatment was not going to work, that the cancer was very aggressive, and that the end would come soon.
I talked that night to Carol about many things. I asked, “You never know when that hour of death is going to come. If it came before you were prepared to say goodbye, is there anything you would want me to say to everyone at your funeral?” She said, “Yes, three things.” Before I tell you those three things, I would like to say that every time we gather at a funeral there are three things we need to say. The first are words of comfort and consolation to those who are left behind. They’re the ones who are bearing the cross now. The second thing we need to do is to remind ourselves of the shortness of life. Every time we gather for a funeral we are reminded that this life is very brief. None of us knows when the end will come, and we must be ready. We’ve got to live our lives with our faith right here, and be prepared to stand face to face with Jesus. The third is that we need to pray for those who have died. As St. Ambrose said so long ago, “Those whom we have loved in this life we must not abandon in death, until by the help of our prayers, we have led them safely into the kingdom of heaven.”
It turns out that those are the same three points that Carol wanted me to talk about. She had three messages for her three “families”: her family at home, her family at Seton and her larger family, the Church.
First, for her family at home, for Steve, Jeff, Lauren, Elena, Melanie and her Mom, this is what she said. “I want you to take all the love you had for me, and I want you to give that now to your children. Make them strong. Teach them their faith. Make them grow up strong in their faith, just like I tried to do with you.” That’s what she said.
She knew that the greatest consolation we have is in the Person of Jesus Christ. He is the One who died and rose. He is the One who showed us that death is not the end. He showed us that death does not have the last word; that everything given to Him can never be lost; that nothing given to Him can ever be destroyed. Just as He told us Himself, “If you live in Me and My words live in you, you will bear much fruit. You will bear fruit that will last.” “Anyone who believes in Me, even if he dies, will live. The one who believes in Me will never die.”
I remember one other night I went to see Carol at Walter Reed, and I asked her, “Carol, are you afraid to die?” And she smiled at me immediately, you know, with that smile that she had and with that gaze that she had; she looked me right in the eye and said, “Oh no, I’m not afraid! How could I be afraid to go to Jesus?” She said, “I don’t trust in my own good works. I don’t trust in my own merits, because I don’t have any. Every good thing I’ve ever done has been God’s work through me. And I know that all of my sins can be wiped away by one drop of His blood.” That’s a consolation to all of us. The consolation of knowing that Jesus Himself is our ransom from death and that Carol placed herself completely in His care.
The second thing Carol wanted to say was to her Seton family. She made me promise I would say this. She said, “If I’ve ever done anything to hurt any of you, please, I beg you for your forgiveness.” She knew that she had faults, and she wanted very much to ask forgiveness for anyone she had hurt.
I don’t think a lot of Carol’s students ever knew just how much she loved them. She would think about them, pray for them and do everything in her power to help them. She would bring their troubles home with her, and she would think about what she could do to help. Many times she asked me what was the best way to help one of her students. Despite her best efforts, she still knew that she had offended people, and she wanted to ask them for their forgiveness.
You know, one of the very best things to keep in mind as we go through this life is that we must live forgiving and being forgiven by others. Jesus said, “Forgive and you will be forgiven.” “Blessed are the merciful, for mercy shall be theirs.” And, “The measure you measure out to others will in turn be measured back to you.”
We live our lives knowing our faults and knowing that we must seek forgiveness from others. Forgiving and asking to be forgiven, this is perhaps the very best way to prepare ourselves for our own death and judgment. Carol knew that she was not perfect, but for her students and co-workers, she wanted to ask for your forgiveness; wanted you to know that she loved you all very much.
The third thing she wanted to say was to her greater family of the whole Church. Carol is the last person who would want me to stand up here on the day of her funeral and canonize her. Here is what she wanted me to say to you: “Tell those people to pray for me! You tell them I want their prayers! Tell those people to pray for me!” Because we know that all of us will one day stand before God, and we know that if there are any sins that stand between us and His kingdom, our prayers for the deceased will help them and make them worthy to see God face to face.
Carol was always thinking about eternity. I remember one time she had Steve driving half way across Northern Virginia looking for my mom’s house, trying to return some tapes that my mom had lent her. Mom came out of the house and saw her and said, “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m going to pray for your condition.” Carol, without missing a beat, said, “Oh, the heck with my condition. God will give me a new body! Pray for my soul – I‘ve only got one of those!” She had such a quick mind. She always knew exactly what to say. She was so sure of the need to pray for one another, even after this life.
Carol has many friends in high places, I am sure. That’s for certain now, but I believe it was true even in the last days of her life. Just last Saturday, I got a call from Steve at about 10:15 p.m. Carol had taken a turn for the worse. Her breathing was very erratic, and it appeared that this might be the end. So I drove to the Hospice in Arlington, arriving around midnight The entire family was there. We celebrated Mass together. I gave Carol the Apostolic Pardon and gave her the Anointing of the Sick. I want to tell you, for your consolation, that in ten years of being a priest, I’ve never seen a holier death.
At the moment of consecration, I held up that Host for a long time. I wanted Carol to see Jesus and to know that He had come to be with her in her last hour I held up the chalice of His Blood. And although Carol was not able to receive the Host because of her weak condition, I was able to place just one drop of the Blood of Christ that I had taken from the chalice and place it on her tongue. She got that “one drop” of Christ’s Blood that had been her trust and her hope. Carol died within the hour. Carol died with the grace of the sacraments and with all her sins forgiven by the Blood of her Savior.
And now we gather one last time to pray for her; to offer the Sacrifice of Jesus for the forgiveness of sins. Pray now with me that even today Carol may see Jesus in the face, and hear Him say to her those most beautiful, and most powerful words that any Christian can ever hope to hear: “Well done good and faithful servant. Enter now into the joy of your Father’s kingdom.”
