Saturday, June 21, 2014


Poem for Today - Saturday June 21, 2014


Unless the eye catch fire
The God will not be seen
Unless the ear catch fire
The God will not be heard
Unless the tongue catch fire
The God will not be named
Unless the heart catch fire
The God will not be loved
Unless the mind catch fire
The God will not be known

© William Blake

Friday, June 20, 2014


This year on this blog – I’ve been planting a poem each day.

I’ve made it to June 20th and plan to make it to December 31st.

The last few years I came up with a “Quote for the Day”. I’ve learned a “Poem for the Day” – is much more difficult.

Maybe next year, 2015, I’ll put a poem of my own for the day. 

We’ll see.

In the meanwhile, what’s your take on poetry?

I have fond memories of seeing my dad sitting there in the front room of our house on 62nd Street in Brooklyn – with a copy of the book: Best Loved Poems of the English Language. It was a title like that. It was part of a whole series of books with light brown covers and gold lettering on green on the label side.

One day – as a little boy - I had an “Eureka” moment.  I opened up that book of poems on my own and inside  I spotted a dried up dark red rose petal. Surprise!  I had never seen anything like that before.

My dad was in his regular chair – near the window – near the sunlight. I walked over to him with the open book – with the rose petal on it – as if I had a dinner plate with food on it. I asked my dad, “Daddy, what’s this?” He put down the paper and looked at the book, the rose petal, and me.

He paused. Silence. Quiet. Then with his rich smile he said just one word, “Memories.”

I’ve often wished I knew what poem that rose petal was on. 

I’ve oven wished I had asked him, “Memories of what?” 

What’s your favorite poem? What’s your favorite song? What are your favorite memories?

Check out Billy Collins words about “Everyday Moments Caught in Time" on the YouTube at the top of this blog piece.

Have you ever written a poem or two or three? Why not now? Why not catch your memories in words – poetic words – to be remembered. Amen. 


Poem for Today- June 20, 2014


How agreeable it is not to be touring Italy this summer,
wandering her cities and ascending her torrid hilltowns.
How much better to cruise these local, familiar streets,
fully grasping the meaning of every roadsign and billboard
and all the sudden hand gestures of my compatriots.

There are no abbeys here, no crumbling frescoes or famous
domes and there is no need to memorize a succession
of kings or tour the dripping corners of a dungeon.
No need to stand around a sarcophagus, see Napoleon's
little bed on Elba, or view the bones of a saint under glass.

How much better to command the simple precinct of home
than be dwarfed by pillar, arch, and basilica.
Why hide my head in phrase books and wrinkled maps?
Why feed scenery into a hungry, one-eyes camera
eager to eat the world one monument at a time?

Instead of slouching in a café ignorant of the word for ice,
I will head down to the coffee shop and the waitress
known as Dot. I will slide into the flow of the morning
paper, all language barriers down,
rivers of idiom running freely, eggs over easy on the way.

And after breakfast, I will not have to find someone
willing to photograph me with my arm around the owner.
I will not puzzle over the bill or record in a journal
what I had to eat and how the sun came in the window.
It is enough to climb back into the car

as if it were the great car of English itself
and sounding my loud vernacular horn, speed off
down a road that will never lead to Rome, not even Bologna. 

© Billy Collins

Thursday, June 19, 2014



The theme I’d like to reflect on once more is prayer—or more specifically on “The Our Father.”

Today’s gospel - Matthew 6: 7-15 - calls us to reflect on prayer—to reflect on Jesus’ simple words and simple teachings on prayer as found in The Our Father.

And I would like to use for all my comments a sermon by Gerd Theissen entitled “The Our Father” in The Open Door, Variations on Biblical Themes. It’s on pages 62 - 66.


Today’s gospel gives Luke’s Our Father. Today’s gospel  gives some good teachings on prayer—both in simple teachings of Jesus about  prayer as an introduction to the Our Father and the Our Father itself.

Luke has the disciples coming up to Jesus and asking him on how to pray.

Suggestion: bring this section of Luke—Chapter 11 -- to prayer over and over again. I have been using it for prayer for a good 36  years now.

Go up to Jesus and ask him to teach you how to pray.

I like Luke’s introduction to the Our Father and these simple teachings of Jesus on prayer. Luke has the disciples coming up to Jesus and asking him on how to pray.


Gerd Theissen in a sermon entitled “The Our Father” in The Open Door, Variations on Biblical Themes  begins his homily with the theory that the motivation of the disciples was not how to pray, but to distinguish themselves from others.

Here in Luke it was to have a prayer that will distinguish them from the Baptist’s followers. In Matthew’s version it was to distinguish themselves from the Gentiles. In the Didache, it’s was to distinguish themselves from the Jews  with the help of the Our Father.

Theissen then states that the joke is on everyone who tries that because “the Our Father is the least suited prayer conceivable for distinguishing us from others. Any Jew and any Moslem can recite it, and probably it would not be difficult for many Hindus to say it with us. It is a quite basic prayer which concentrates on the important things between cradle and grave.” (p. 62)


Theissen goes on to say that it has become a Christian prayer—a special treasure entrusted to Christians.

It is a treasure because it contains the essentials.

It provides a treasure we can bring to every dialogue with all religions—to Jews, Gentiles, believers and atheists.

But we better first have introduced this prayer into our own life first—giving us convictions we would live and die with and for.


Theissen says that the word “Father” is significant. When he was born, his dad was away at war and was a prisoner of war.

He says that he only knew his dad by stories. He didn’t get to know him till he was 6 and a half.

His analogy is to bring out various points. In his book it’s one long paragraph. Let me present his actual words but with a paragraph space after  each sentence.

 “God may be like that to some people.

God is absent.

Many people know God only from stories.

And they hope that God will enter their lives later so that they can feel that something in these stories will ring true.

It rings true that we do not owe our existence to chance, but to a power who wanted us with love, who gave us the task of living, who affirms us and supports us in good times and in bad.

Some people may say that with our parents, father and mother, we remain within our sphere of existence.

But with that father we go beyond it.

What can we already know of him?

How can we trust him?

Let me recall something very simple here.

Even in the case of earthly parents, one thing radically escapes our experience: the story of the love between our mother and our father, that story in which our own existence has its common ground.

We can only hear of it.

Indeed we even have to take the identity of our father and mother on trust—on the basis of stories of others.

But it is reasonable here to believe and trust that it was love—or at least the longing for love—which helped us to exist.

If we trust that, then in later life with our parents we shall find much to confirm and justify this faith, and we shall also not allow ourselves to be led astray by the inevitable conflicts with parents, or even by long alienation.

But if we are full of mistrust, if we suspect that we owe our existence not to a love story but to something else—calculation or chance or thoughtlessness—then we shall  also find much to justify our mistrust.

That is how I imagine our dealings with God: we relate to him as we do our father and mother.

If we trust the accounts which tell us that we owe our existence anew each day to a love story, then every day we shall have new experiences in which the trust is confirmed.

And it is quite reasonable to have this trust—even through deep crises and catastrophes.” (pp. 63 - 64)


God is present everywhere. But where is God praised? Where is God recognized?

Well here we are recognizing him, praising him, giving him a name, not allowing him to remain anonymous.

Theissen uses the analogy of self—we often spend our days unaware of ourselves—wrapped up in our routines. Then a moment happens that wakes us up—that tears us apart from the regular routine. I am irreplaceable. I am one person between birth and death—who has to make decisions which no one else can make—and encounter joys and sorrows that on one else can have.

So too God in our lives. God is always present in our life.

“But only in a few situations does he emerge from his anonymity, does he disclose himself, so that we ourselves become the answer to his call, with body and nerves, ideas and actions—and at the same time terrified that we owed him this response.

Where God emerges from his anonymous, nameless present, we experience one thing above all: that we must change profoundly, that we must `hallow’ ourselves (as one can say in biblical language) in order to correspond to him and to hallow his name, so that he is not driven out, not forgotten, not despised.” (p. 64)


Theissen goes on to comment on the phrase, “Thy Kingdom Come”.

“That’s not all.

We go on to pray, `Your kingdom come.’

That means that to correspond to God not only must we change ourselves, but the whole world must become different, so that it emerges from its anonymous present and can be lived in.

That was one of the great discoveries in the Bible and in Judaism: the world which corresponds to God, in which his name is acknowledged and hallowed, cannot be the same as the world which now exists, which seems to be so final—and which is nevertheless only a transition in the great process of reality.

This new world, which will fully reflect God’s presence, is not something incomprehensibly remote.

It already begins in hiddenness here and now. It already began in Jesus.

And also in Francis, in Gandhi and in Albert Schweitzer.

In all these figures something is present of that kingdom of God in which God’s will is done not only in heaven but on earth.” (pp. 64 - 65)


Theissen goes on to comment on the phrase, “Give us this day our daily bread.”

He states that we live in a

“problematic world which is different from that world in which God’s will prevails.

In this world we must pray, `Give us each day our daily bread’—or, as we should probably understand the phrase, `Give us each day tomorrow’s bread’, so that we are freed from tormenting cares about life.

For precisely that is the great temptation to which we are exposed in the world.

Bread is scarce.

Material goods are limited.

We are born into a hard struggle over the distribution of resources, a struggle at the heart of which is deep distrust that there may not be enough for everyone.

If we trusted that there was enough for everyone, it would not be so hard for us to give something away.

But as it is we fight over the scarce goods of life—between classes, between nations, between generations, between developed and underdeveloped countries.

No one escapes this oppressive  context: we all live at the expense of other people.

Indeed, we now discover to our horror that as a human species we live at the expense of all other kinds of living beings.

We have spread over this earth so successfully that countless species are already extinct and many more die out each year.

That is what I call the inexorable struggle over distribution. In it we have a right to life, to the bread we need to live.

We also have right to tomorrow’s bread.

But what we are doing is more: we are consuming the bread for the day after tomorrow.

We are plundering the planet so that those who live after us will not find much left, and we are letting the hungry beside us go away empty.” (P. 65)


Theissen goes on to comment on the phrase, “Forgive us our sins.”

“So it is necessary to pray, `Forgive us our sins, for we also forgive everyone who sins against us.’

We are guilty in this struggle over the distribution of food and opportunities, for even if we are personally innocent, we are caught up and entangled in a system of unfair distribution.

We darkly suspect that there is a close connection between the catastrophes of famine on this earth and our luxury.

We also suspect that our ordered (and perhaps indeed successful) life and study are connected with the failed and ruined lives in our society: where there are winners there are also losers.

The rules of the game are often unfair.

 But those who take part in the game confirm them—even involuntarily.” (p. 65)


Theissen goes on to comment on the phrase, “Lead us not into temptation.”

“Precisely this insight is a great temptation to cynicism.

And we pray: `Lead us into into temptation.’

The tempter approached Jesus in the wilderness loaded with biblical quotations.

It’s the same with us: incontrovertible truths become our temptation.

It is an incontrovertible truth that life is a struggle over distribution, that we have great difficulty in escaping this struggle, that all civilization limits it only up to a point, that it would be too much for the conscience if we felt personally responsible for all that goes on.

And then along comes the tempter and whispers all these truths in our ear—and suggests that cynicism which says, `If you personally share in this struggle over distribution (your share of food, education, possessions and status) -- why bother about the fate of others?, and he goes on to whisper, `It’s really time that you rid yourself of your post-pubertal dreams and faced reality.’

We are mostly tempted by truths, sometimes even by truths supported by science.

But the temptation is that we forget the most basic things.

“We forget that we owe life to the power of God. Before God and through God we all have the same right to life.

“We forget that we are constantly called to repentance, so that his name is hallowed through our actions and thoughts.

“We forget that we are caught up in that process which is aimed at changed of the world, so that everyone can experience God’s goodness.” (p. 66)


Theissen ends his homily this way:

“`And lead us not into temptation.’

Today, that means, `Lead us not into temptation to deny the reality of God.’

For in that case everything could basically remain as it was.

In that case we could persist in our laziness, and the world in its remoteness from God. Amen.” (p. 66)

So those are some ideas about the Our Father and Prayer—almost all stolen for Theissen.


Poem for Today, Thursday, June 19, 2014


It seemed that out of battle I escaped
Down some profound dull tunnel, long since scooped
Through granites which titanic wars had groined.

Yet also there encumbered sleepers groaned,
Too fast in thought or death to be bestirred.
Then, as I probed them, one sprang up, and stared
With piteous recognition in fixed eyes,
Lifting distressful hands, as if to bless.
And by his smile, I knew that sullen hall,— 
By his dead smile I knew we stood in Hell.

With a thousand fears that vision's face was grained;
Yet no blood reached there from the upper ground,
And no guns thumped, or down the flues made moan.
“Strange friend,” I said, “here is no cause to mourn.” 
“None,” said that other, “save the undone years,
The hopelessness. Whatever hope is yours,
Was my life also; I went hunting wild
After the wildest beauty in the world,
Which lies not calm in eyes, or braided hair,
But mocks the steady running of the hour,
And if it grieves, grieves richlier than here.
For by my glee might many men have laughed,
And of my weeping something had been left,
Which must die now. I mean the truth untold,
The pity of war, the pity war distilled.
Now men will go content with what we spoiled.
Or, discontent, boil bloody, and be spilled.
They will be swift with swiftness of the tigress. 
None will break ranks, though nations trek from progress.
Courage was mine, and I had mystery;
Wisdom was mine, and I had mastery: 
To miss the march of this retreating world
Into vain citadels that are not walled.
Then, when much blood had clogged their chariot-wheels, 
I would go up and wash them from sweet wells,
Even with truths that lie too deep for taint.
I would have poured my spirit without stint
But not through wounds; not on the cess of war.
Foreheads of men have bled where no wounds were.

“I am the enemy you killed, my friend.
I knew you in this dark: for so you frowned
Yesterday through me as you jabbed and killed.
I parried; but my hands were loath and cold.
Let us sleep now. . . .”

© Wilfred Owen


Wednesday, June 18, 2014


Poem for Today - Wednesday June 18, 2014


They buried her in the family tomb
and in the depths the dust
of what was once her husband
joy for the living
is sorrow for the dead.

© Octavio Paz
Pages 190-191
The Collected Poems
Of Octavio Paz,


La enterraron en la tumba familiar
y en las profundidades temblo el polvo
del que fue su marido:
la alegria
de los vivos
es la pena de los muertos.

Tuesday, June 17, 2014



The title of my homily for this 11th Tuesday in Ordinary Time is, “Repercussions.”

The gist of my homily would be that this message would have repercussions. For starters: to realize there are repercussions.  Next: that we might pause and then stop  before we do or say something that has negative consequences.

Doing that could be the pause that saves our bacon.

Doing that could be the pause that refreshes us.

Doing that could be the pause that has repercussions in us for good.


During the flu season - a while back - they put in churches these squeezie germ killer fluids in small bottles up here in the sanctuary. That move had repercussions.

I’ve heard and read: not smart.

I’ve heard and read: smart.

I’ve wondered whether will someone scream if we stop doing this.

I joke: will they will be part of the Mass by the year 3014? This is not so far-fetched question.  The priest still washes his hands just after the offertory of the Mass.  Supposedly that goes back to the time people brought food up to priest at the altar and he received  it for the poor.  Well,  that ended back in the early church – but receiving cash started somewhere along the line.

So everything has repercussions – consequences – offshoots – many of which we don’t see at the time a change happens.


Repercussions are what happens when we do or not do or say something.

Repercussions are reverberations.

Repercussions are consequences.

Repercussions are backlash.

Repercussions are triggers.

One nasty negative put down can echo down deep in and through the caverns of a person’s psyche for 20 years.

Motorcycles wake people up at 4 in the morning.

Coughs, slammed doors, falling kneelers on a wooden floor, affect our sleep – sometimes during Mass.

Coming to Mass has repercussions.


Today’s first reading from 1 Kings 21: 17-29 – continues the story of King Ahab and his Queen – the famous Jezebel.

As we heard in yesterday’s first reading, Jezebel  plans, plots and delivers on the wiping out of a man named Naboth. His only two problems were: he owned a vineyard right next to King Ahab’s house and he said “no” when Ahab wanted to buy it from him.

Elijah the prophet starts shouting out loud the repercussions of their killing of Naboth. Both Ahab and his wife Jezebel will be wiped out as well – and dogs will lick their blood in the streets. Messy message. Messy repercussion. I was wondering about the repercussions to Naboth’s family. Whatever happened to them?

Usually, all we hear about are the rich and the famous. So as to Ahab and Jezebel, stay tuned. Keep reading the 1st Book of Kings to find out what happens next.


In today’s gospel - a continuation of the Sermon on the Mount - Jesus urges us to be perfect.

Difficult – but if we do – if we love each other – and greet everyone - including enemies – or the tough to love people in our life – there will be consequences – repercussions.

So too compliments, praise, affirmations, good deeds.

Everything has repercussions – like how we treat one another this day – as we move around and through each other’s vineyard.


Poem for Today - Tuesday, June 17, 2014


Water hollows stone,
wind scatters water,
stone stops the wind.
Water, wind, stone.

Wind carves stone,
stone’s a cup of water,
water escapes and is wind.
Stone, wind, water.

Wind sings in its whirling,
water murmurs going by,
unmoving stone keeps still.
Wind, water, stone.

Each is another and no other:
crossing and vanishing
through their empty names:
Water, stone, wind.

© Octavio Paz
For Rober Caillois
Pages 504-505 in
The Collected Poems
of Octavio Paz


El agua horada la piedra,
el viento dispersa el agua,
la piedra detiene al viento.
Agua, viento, piedra.

El viento esculpe la piedra,
la piedra e scopa del agua,
el agua escapa y es viento.
Piedra, viento, agua.

El viento en sus giros canta,
el agua al andar murmura,
la piedra inmovil se calla.
Viento, agua, piedra.

Uno es otro y es niguno:
entre sus nombres vacios
pasan y se desvanecen
agua, piedra, viento.

Monday, June 16, 2014



The title of my homily for this 11 Monday in Ordinary Time  is, “I Want What I Want,  When I Want It!”

Is that me?

That’s one of life’s most important realities.

That’s the thought – and the question - that hit me when I read today’s two readings.

I want what I want, when I want it.


In today’s first reading from 1st Kings 21: 1-16, we hear the story how King Ahab of Samaria, wanted a vineyard that belonged to someone else.

It was right next to Ahab’s house – and he thought it would be a great spot for a vegetable garden.

The owner of the vineyard – a man named Naboth – said to the king, “No!”

Ahab offered Naboth a better vineyard – or money if he preferred.

The answer was still, “No!”

Naboth said his vineyard  was part of his ancestral heritage.

Ahab became angry - very angry.

Next came depression.  He hid himself under the blankets in his bed.

Anger and Depression often are bedfellows.

Ahab’s wife, the infamous Jezebel,  then cut him down further – saying, “A fine ruler over Israel you are.” 

Can’t you picture her saying that as she stood  over him in his king sized bed?

Then to add insult to insult – she said, “I’ll take care of this one.”

She then basically planned Naboth’s death – by stones – coming up with some false accusations against him.

Today’s first reading ends with Ahab out of bed and headed down the road to take over the property.


In today’s gospel – a continuation of the Sermon on the Mount – Matthew 5: 38-42 -  we run into this same issue of confrontation: what to do when someone wants something when they want something?

Jesus tries a different approach – telling us to say, “Yes!” – and not, “No!”

In fact, Jesus says take the slap on the left cheek  - after we get slapped on the right cheek. Walk the mile the other wants us to walk and then top the person by going the extra mile. When someone wants our tunic, give him our cloak as well. If someone wants to borrow something from us, give it to them.

Then, watch what happens - in the long run - to our heart and mind – when we try this approach.


The title of my homily is, “I Want What I Want, When I Want It.”

Does this apply to parenting: when the kid sees a toy, or a game or McDonald’s – and wants what she or he wants when they want it?

What’s it like to be in a full parking lot – and we’re driving around looking for a spot? Surprise! We see someone’s car back lights go on. Looks like they are about to back out. We stop and wait for that driver to pull out – but they pull out their cell phone first and start talking. We’re waiting – and waiting – and waiting – and waiting-  and then they finally back out  towards us – sort of blocking us. Suddenly someone else shoots into that spot ahead of us.

What’s it like to be at a restaurant – and we see the maître d’ giving  a table to a party who just came in – without reservations. It looks like they know each other. And we’ve  been there waiting forever?

Is life lots of not getting what we want?

Is getting our skills in this area a key to serenity?

Is this what kids are for – along with traffic and picking the slowest check-out counter every time in the supermarket - to teach us – we can’t run the universe?

We can't always get what we want - especially when we want it.

Did God learn this one, a long time, starting from that evening – when God asked in his mind about Adam and Eve, “Where are they? Are they hiding? Did they do what I told them not to?” Does God then say, “I guess I’m not going to get what I want when it comes to these two?”


Painting on top: 

Woman Crying 
by Pablo Picasso


Poem for Today - Monday - June 16, 2014


When God scooped up a handful of dust,
And spit on it, and molded the shape of man,
And blew a breath into it and told it to walk –
That was a great day.

And did God do this because He was lonely?
Did God say to Himself he must have company
And therefore He would make man to walk the earth
And set apart churches for speech and song with               God?

These are questions.
They are scrawled in old caves.
They are painted in tall cathedrals.
There are men and women so lonely they believe
God, too, is lonely.

© Carl Sandburg,
Harvest Poems

Painting on top:
Planting by
Rex Goreleigh

Sunday, June 15, 2014



The title of my words for today is, “As A Father”.

Instead of a homily for today - Father's Day - it hit me yesterday -  to present a list of  hopes and prayers - for what I would hope and pray - a Christian Father would see – hope for – pray for – be - and do.

Today is also the feast of the Most Holy Trinity – and I would state – that how we see God, how we experience God – stems very much  - from how we see and experience our father who art on earth – our dad. That is scary. That is profound. That is quite a responsibility and honor - for any father and mother – grandfather and grandmother – teacher or guardian. We learn from the visible before we grasp the invisibles. We go from the known to the unknown. We experience our parents – family – others – the other kids in the playground and school and park – and parties -  before we experience our God – who we Christians believe -  is a Trinity – 3 persons – who are 1 – because of their deepest love and union with each other.

If we grow up with rigid rules – stone commandments – severe condemnations – and punishments -  perhaps that’s how we’ll see God and how we’ll do life. If that was our experience, perhaps too, we won’t get the new commandments of love – coming from Jesus – who told us he was telling us what he was getting from his Father – our God – who as we heard in today’s gospel – is a God who so loved the world that he gave his only son – so that everyone who believes in God might not perish but might have eternal life.

So I would urge all the fathers here to make a list of what their hopes and prayers are for – for their children and all the children of our world.

Being someone called “father”,  I thought I can do this too. In fact,  I better do this first – to make a list – to do that homework - in hopes that the fathers here – would follow my example. Hopefully that would make today - Father’s Day – not just a day to hear “Thank you!” as a father  – but that it might be a day of renewal for all fathers as well.


So here’s my list:

As a father, I hope and pray - there will be no father – who will not hear from someone one today, “Happy Father’s Day!”

As a father, I hope and pray – for more – much more than that - that all fathers get new bow ties, conversation starters at that,  brunch, lunch, cards, phone calls if they are at a distance – and they hear in their children’s voices – the wonderful tones that can be heard in a rich, “Thank you, dad.”

As a father, I hope and pray all fathers today renew their role as fathers – concern and care for the next generation.

As a father,  I hope and pray a prayer of thanksgiving for all fathers this day – especially my own dad – and that you do the same. If you’re  sitting here, you have a dad. I love to quote Groucho Marx in this context – when he said, “If your parents didn’t have any kids, chances are you won’t too.” My dad was quite a guy – and a quiet guy. He died – Friday - June 26, 1970 – emphysema – a week after Father’s Day. Thank you God, for letting me and all our family  be there in Moses Maimonides Hospital,  Brooklyn, New York that afternoon at 2 PM. Thank you for letting me  spot a couple in the lobby – leaving the hospital at the same time as us – with their new born baby

As a father, I hope and pray that all of you have neat photographs of  your dad – in a prominent place in your home – as well as pictures of you with your dad. I cherish several black and white photographs.  There I am a tiny little two year old in my dad’s arms – Bliss Park – Brooklyn, N. Y. I smile that they were still taking pictures even though I was the fourth and last kid.

As a father, I hope and pray – all of us grab some time today – to pinch ourselves – to marvel at all the circumstances, events, zillions and zillions and zillions of them – like dominos falling – that had to happen to make us happen – our father being most significant – the moment we were conceived in our mother’s womb. I often think of Carl Sagan’s comment in this regard: “If you wish to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first invent the universe.”  So too each of us.

As a father, I hope and pray Christian fathers will see and will be what the Trinity is: relationships. It’s all about relationships – connections – we’re made in the image and likeness of God. It’s not good to be or go it alone. We are because of our parents. We are fathers because of others – spouses, children, those we care and serve.

As a father, I hope and pray we do some deep thinking today about our own fathers – part of the duo who brought us forth – if there is any need for deeper conversations, comment, talk and listening – if they are alive – do it. If they are dead – let them know our thoughts and feelings in prayer today. If possible, tape and write down history. Watch an older person’s face light up, when we give them undivided attention – and ask, “What was it like when…?”

As a father, I hope and pray we care with mothers and others - for the earth –  our home for generations to come.

As a father, I hope and prayer these girls in Africa are found – and returned home safe and sound.

As a father, I hope and pray that churches and schools, groups and organization, get it together for more watchdog vigilance and concern to stop abuse of children and minors.

As a father, I hope and pray  - that - if there is any need for forgiveness – unless bringing up the past  causes eruptions and family earthquakes – that forgiveness be given and forgiveness be received. Many weekends – when I have a wedding – I see families where there was a divorce – handle the rehearsal and the wedding – with care and concern for each other – especially the couple getting married. Mistakes – disasters – crashes and clashes happen. Sometimes, “I forgive you!” is a thousand times more important than “I love you.”


Hope everyone – especially dads – have a Happy Father’s Day.

Picture on top 
taken in Helsinki, Finland