The priest that isn’t, is. . .

It wasn’t to mock the priesthood
or rip on the Catholic Church
When I came dressed in my black shirt and white collar. . .
It was only a reminder that each of us
at our best
and not so best
are representatives
A M B A S S A D O R S
of something much better than us. . .

It’s also a reminder that first impressions
make a powerful,
p o w e r f u l
statement;
In fact,
when I was at Giant Eagle
prior to the service on Sunday
the cashier sneezed
and the person in front of me and the person behind me and I all in unison said,
“God bless you!”
The man in front of me, seeing me in my collar, said,
“I think it means more coming from him, than us.”
R E A L L Y

And then
as I was walking to my car
a group of Browns fans were coming in
obviously for some refreshments for the upcoming game that afternoon
and one of them yelled out,
“HEY, FATHER, BLESS THE BROWNS, TODAY!”
I just smiled and waved and didn’t have the heart to tell him that I was a Steelers fan. . .
The Golden nugget;
The magical moment came after church
when we stopped at our neighborhood grocery store on the way home to pick up some cat food and dog food
and as we were going through the checkout line the cashier stopped checking us out and said,
“Father, I know you’re off the clock, but I sure could use a blessing.
And before I could say a word she told me what a rough year it has been because her husband has been so sick. . .
And right there in the checkout line,
it became hallowed ground,
the check out counter had become an altar
the cash register shelf
a small Confessional. . .
We both seemed to forget about the people in line;
I asked her what her name was,
“Beth,”
she said no longer looking at me.
“And your husband,” I said, “what’s his name?”
“Larry,”
she said above a whisper like prayer. . .
I asked for her hands
and she reached across the counter and gave them up to me
as a sacred offering. . .
“Beth, may your and Larry’s new upcoming Blessings far outweigh any of the troubles that you’ve had this past year and may you never look at any sunset that brings the darkness without knowing of the explosive Sunrise that follows it.”
She had tears in her eyes and asked me if it would be OK if she could come around the counter and give me a hug.
And as we hugged
I whispered one more Blessing:
“Here’s to your greatest memories being those you’ve yet to create”

Sometimes
the greatest priest that isn’t,
I S

The take away:
You are
T H A T
Priest
especially the one without a collar.  . .

Make Love
your Law
and Kindness
Your Gospel. . .
and recognize the hurt that the World often brings to your door
is often
the very salve you already possess to heal it;
THE QUESTION:
WILL YOU?

R    E    A    L            C    O    M    M    U    N    I    O    N

.          .          .What is real  communion.        .         .

When I met her, she asked me to bring her  real communion  and I ask her what is real communion, and she said, “you know the one with wine not with grape juice.” 

It started off an explosion of ideas and memories in me:

a little girl who asked me during a Junior Sermon one Sunday, “When can I have some of that ‘Jesus Juice’

a Deacon offering me the Cup during a recent Mass at an inpatient Hospice unit

a Eucharistic Minister who knew I wasn’t Catholic offering me Communion on a Maundy Thursday during Holy Week

catching a kid taking a hand full of Communion wafers and eating them like tic-tacs

But  mostly:

what  is  r e a l   c o m m u n i o n ?

is it actually symbolic of a piece of bread or broken bread or a way for symbolizes the broken body of Christ.       .       .

is a great juice is it real wind it symbolizes the shed blood of Christ.       .       .

Is it something less religious maybe even more spiritual.       .       .

is it the first time my father looked into the eyes of his newborn child.          .          .

is it the first time a new mom successfully Breast feeds her baby

Is it a couple on their wedding day sharing a Ritz cracker and a sip of Ginger ale because that’s what they shared on their first date in the park

is it a grandmother, literally tearing a loaf of bread in half and passing a piece each of their grandchildren on a picnic and explaining it doesn’t matter how big the piece is as long as it’s a shared piece.          .          .

is it the unspoken language between a husband and a wife of 50+ years sharing that one last look before one of them dies.          .          .

 What.          .          .

What  is  Real  Communion?

And who.          .          .

Who can have it.          .          .

Who can share or distribute it?

Probably safe to say, huh,

there are many different meanings

there are many different definitions

of what exactly is REAL  COMMUNION

is the definition that you give to it

and maybe even greater still

the Priest you are WHO Share it.          .          .

Whatever  Real  Communion  is to you

~~define it~~

share it~~

live it~~

be it…

because whatever real  communion  is,

it’s not a solitary confinement

or singular act

it ultimately is a shared experience

between you and another person

or a group of likeminded OTHERS

and if it’s not SHARED

then  it’s  not  REAL COMMUNION

~~ it’s THEN whatever it is you define as it’s exact snd complete opposite

Maybe the universal definition of real  communion is merely:

The hand who serves

r e a c h i n g

for the hand who receives

and simply

t o u c h

c o n n e c t

h o l d

(repeatedly)

The hand who serves is most like the hand who receives

only when it’s

e             x             t             e             n             d             e             d

Maybe

R E A L     C O M M U N I O N

it’s not so much

something you choose as much as

Y      O      U           L    I    V    E
(As   you   are)