Here is a link to an article I wrote some time ago. The article reflects my feelings for brother and sister veterans as well as the need to be listened to.
https://www.franciscanmedia.org/st-anthony-messenger/welcome-home-soldier
Here is a link to an article I wrote some time ago. The article reflects my feelings for brother and sister veterans as well as the need to be listened to.
https://www.franciscanmedia.org/st-anthony-messenger/welcome-home-soldier
I was recently diagnosed with skin cancer. Not pre-cancer but melanoma. Full-blown cancer. Thankfully it was treatable since it was in situ, i.e., on the surface. My initial research revealed that in situ melanoma was very treatable if it was caught early. That research also revealed that skin cancer could be deadly, especially if not caught early.
They say there are no atheists in foxholes or at death beds. I suspect there are very few atheists at the time of a diagnosis of cancer. As I awaited the initial appointment with the skin oncologist, I found all my spiritual beliefs confronted.
As a person in recovery, I am directed to “let go and let God.” That works just fine when I am faced with a flight delay or a tough night sleeping. But I struggled with letting go when faced with the C-word.
I also knew I could pray about it. My journey of faith, however, is one replete with questions and doubts. I questioned whether praying for a healing was honest, given all my struggles. I then had a comforting thought: “Try praying honestly” I thought. And so I talked to God about my fears. I talked about how I knew that, at 76, I would not live forever. I also realized that, despite my doubts, I have never stopped believing. In essence my prayer was “Here I am, Lord, with all my doubts and questions.”
I always thought profound spiritual experiences were for other people. Bright lights. Messages from God. These things happened to True Believers not to questioners like me. At that point something happened.
The voice I heard was not mine. It was not outside my head like an auditory hallucination. But it wasn’t my voice. It said “You’ve spent your journey seeking. You’ve spent your journey trying to share what you learn with others. You’ve talked about being a Wounded Healer. See what you can learn from this and share it with others.” After hearing that voice in my head, I felt comforted. I had been given a spiritual perspective that would work for me.
When I shared this with my wife, she mentioned “Today is your mother’s birthday.” Perhaps she who had such a deep faith and who greatly believed in the power of prayer had intervened on my behalf.
I learned today that the surgeon has apparently gotten all the cancer cells. But I also know that, having had skin cancer, I am more vulnerable for it to recur. I understand that the cancer I have faced is not as deadly as that facing friends. It is not the non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma faced by my friend for 20 years.. It is not the type of stomach cancer that killed my mother. For that I am grateful.
So what have I learned?
I have learned that fear is real and that accurate information can help allay fear.
I have learned that prayer helps but that the prayer has to be honest. I can’t pray in a way I think I should. I have to be honest amidst my questions and doubts.
I found that reaching out helps. The presence of my wife and children on this journey was invaluable.
I was once again confronted with my arrogance. All these years I never thought I needed sunscreen!
Maybe that was God’s voice I heard. After all, I’ve claimed for a long time that the most powerful thing Jesus said was “The Kingdom of God is within you.” Because it might have been God’s voice, that’s why I decided to share this piece. Cancer called me to reach some clarity on what I really believed and to share.
The journey continues this time with the Big C, an important teaching stop along the way.
Reflection: Feel free to share anything you are comfortable doing so regarding any encounters you’re had with cancer or any other life-threatening disease.
Here is the link to an article I wrote for St. Anthony Messenger. Enjoy!
https://www.franciscanmedia.org/st-anthony-messenger/a-new-understanding-of-the-prayer-of-st-francis

I first posted this piece some years ago and wanted to repost it today. I have many images in my mind and heart from that time as we all do. But the enduring image from that day is that of a lone policeman.
On this day, September 11, we are all invited to pause and reflect on that terrible day. As with Pearl Harbor, as with JFK’s assassination, we remember where we were and what we were doing. But, out of the ashes, I found some hope about six weeks later when I ran in the New York City Marathon.
There was some question as to whether the marathon would even occur. In the days and weeks after the attacks, it was unclear if there would be more attacks. Beyond that, having thousands of runners standing on an open bridge at the start of the marathon seemed to invite danger. Yet one week before, it was announced that the marathon would happen, even though fully one third of registered runners had dropped out.
As I contemplated whether or not I would go, I admit to being afraid. Thankfully I didn’t let fear make the decision and I boarded the plane for New York City. Yes, I ran and yes I finished. But there are some enduring images that have stayed with me and that gave me hope.
Near where I was staying in the Times Square area was a fire station. It was decorated with mementos and memorials. That station had lost a significant portion of their fire fighters. People would stop and ask to be photographed with surviving fire fighters. After all, they were all genuine heroes.
The day before the marathon my sons and I got as close as we could to the site of those attacks. We could still smell smoke and ashes and grew quiet as a flat bed drove by carrying a huge piece of metal from one of the destroyed structures.
The day of the marathon we were warned not to accept drinks from strangers in the crowd but only at official rehydration stops. Again, there were still many unknowns and considerable fear.
As the marathon was about to start, at the front with arms linked were fire fighters and police officers, another enduring image from that day.
But the image that has stayed with me the most is that of a lone New York City policeman. My son had encouraged me to wear a T-shirt that said where I was from and also had my first name on it. Indeed that created some nice interactions with people in the crowd, to include several yelling out “Hey! I’m from El Paso!” I finished the marathon and was walking to meet my sons, the finisher’s medal about my neck. To one side was a lone policeman. He looked at me and said “Congratulations, Rich. You did it.” I went over and shook his hand. But as I was walking away, I began to imagine what that man might have been through the past weeks. Recovering from his own sense of shock. Grief over the loss of what likely were numerous friends among first responders. And yet he could for a moment set all that aside to affirm a middle-aged exhausted runner who clearly finished near the back of the pack. Somehow that image more than anything else from those days has stood as a beacon of hope — that amidst the darkest times many are able to rise above their own pain to deliver an act of simple kindness.
So on this day and in the wake of senseless shootings in my hometown, the memory of a solitary policeman somehow reminds me that even in the midst of that darkness some can truly rise on eagle’s wings.
Thomas Wolfe once wrote a novel titled “You Can’t Go Home Again”. Much of Wolfe’s writing focused on that theme as he would explore his Southern roots.
The above picture is of Zummo’s Coffee Shop. Beside the cafe is a run-down two-story house. I lived on the first floor of that house until I was 7 years old. The cafe now takes up that entire first floor. So on a recent visit to Scranton, I decided to visit Zummo’s and have a coffee in my old home.
It was a strange experience. I was struck by how small the space was and that it once included a living room, kitchen, and 3 bedrooms. Others often say that, when you go back home after being away for a while, your old home seems smaller. As I sat in that old living room, I recalled too that this was a place of sadness and grief.
Zummo’s was once a neighborhood grocery run by Vince Zummo as well as a shoe repair shop run by brother Tony. The memory of penny candy and the smell of leather lingered in my mind.
When we return home we are reminded of the tyranny of life. I spent some time with old friends. We reminisced but the tyranny of life was also evident in the losses and illnesses my friends had experienced.
My childhood was not ideal. No-one’s is. But we sometimes long for those memories that reflect a time of innocence. For me, many of those memories are ones of smells. The smell of the cut hair and Bay Rum of my grandfather’s barber shop. The smell of a piece of candy like a spearmint leaf or a root beer barrel. The smell of my aunt’s peanut butter cookies. Those smells are long gone but, as I sat in that coffee shop, I longed for them.
After I drove by Joe Biden’s old house, I passed Maloney Field. It is now occupied by buildings belonging to Marywood University but what I saw in my mind and heart was a huge empty field where we would play endless hours of baseball and football.
I drove by the second house I lived in on Jefferson Avenue. Again the smells. Burning leaves in autumn. The crispness of the breezes as I looked out my bedroom window to see the honking geese pass in front of the moon.
Near that house was St. Joseph’s Hospital where my younger sister stayed for 4 months before her death from spina bifida. I now wonder what memories that stirred for my parents since we lived nearby. That place also used to be a home for unwed mothers who were the subjects of nasty sermons by local priest. I remember seeing them walking the neighborhood. They looked like teenage girls to me, not big sinners.
I drove by St. Clare Church (left), part of St. Paul Parish. I remembered the sacred smell of incense. My spiritual journey started there. Some of the memories of that church and nearby school have required some healing.
I experienced other memorable smells on that trip — a pizza from Granteed’s, a hoagie from Hank’s, a good authentic Italian meal.
Indeed you can’t go home again. But I am grateful for the memory of good smells.
I find the trip best summed up with this wonderful closing speech by Rod Serling from the episode “Walking Distance” of The Twilight Zone:
Reflection: Have you had experiences that said you can’t go home again?
Christianity is in the news on a regular basis these days. Here in Texas there is increasing pressure in the legislature from Conservative Christian to legislate teaching the Bible in public schools. Elsewhere we hear more about book bannings. One of the leading candidates for President is marketing a version of the Bible. I find myself wondering what Jesus would think of the modern version of the religion and teachings named after Him. I wonder if He would even recognize it. In my own distress over the current state of Christianity, I return to the core of Jesus’ teachings — the Beatitudes — to see what light they would offer me.
In Jesus’ sermon on the mount, He outlines the essence of a Christian lifestyle. It is a reference point for all of us in assessing ourselves as Christians. As with many things Jesus said, it can also be twisted to serve one’s own purpose.
Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the kingdom of God. Clearly Jesus looked with compassion on the poor as well as the marginalized and called us to do the same. Here He is calling us to also address our attachments — everything we must have. Fortune. Fame. Power. Unhealthy attachments such as drugs, alcohol, self-centered sex. Jesus calls us to free ourselves from such attachments. So does Buddha. Clearly many Political Christians exhibit considerable attachments to wealth and power.
Blessed are they that mourn for they shall be comforted. Jesus, being human, mourned. When confronted with the death of His friend Lazarus, Jesus wept. And then He raised Lazarus from the dead. There is a great metaphor here. At times we are faced with dying to some part of ourselves. Perhaps we are faced with limitations through failure. Perhaps our health is challenged. Perhaps we are addicted. You might think it odd but in many recovery programs, the recovering addict has to grieve the “death” of the addict. Often we must grieve before moving on to a new chapter in our lives. Jesus also suggests here that the loss I mourn will not be magically undone. In times of loss, none of us can fix the loss. What we can offer to one another is presence and comfort.
Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the earth. Meek is a troublesome word since it is often associated with weakness. In fact, the closest synonym for “meek” is “humble”. According the the Meriam-Webster dictionary, the opposite of meek is “egotistical” or “arrogant”. If we consider some of the modern Political Christians, the word humble does not fit. Egotistical and arrogant do. To be humble is not to be groveling. It involves having a balanced view of oneself, being able to admit to character defects while at the same time embracing ways in which we are gifted. It also includes a capacity to admit when we are wrong and to be willing to make amends.
Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness for they shall be filled. “Righteous” is a word that would indeed be invoked by Political Christians and they might very well point to this Beatitude to justify their actions. According to Miriam-Webster “righteous” mean to act in accord with divine or moral law. The ultimate reference point for our righteousness is the teachings of Jesus. Remember that Jesus challenged the legalism of the Judaism of His day, instead advocating a morality that was based on compassion and forgiveness. This is the righteousness to which we are called.
Blessed are the merciful for they shall receive mercy. To be merciful is to be kind and forgiving. We are not called to be passive or to minimize wrong-doing. But this beatitude along with the call to righteousness asks us to perhaps hate the sin but to love the sinner. Jesus, for example, never excused the behavior of the adulterous woman about to be stoned. But He did not judge her and encouraged her to change her ways.
Blessed are the pure of heart for they shall see God. The Catholicism of my youth unfortunately associated “purity” as having to do with sex. Purity of heart goes far beyond vigilance about lust. Jesus made it very clear that He was about more than changing one’s behavior. He advocated a change in one’s heart. This isn’t only a matter of emotions. “Purity of heart” has to do with motive and intention. If I am “pure of heart”, I don’t say one thing and do another. When my heart is pure, then my sense of God in my life is more clear. Remembering that Jesus said “The kingdom of God is within you”, when my heart is pure and my intent is to live a righteous, God-centered life, then I am seeing God.
Blessed are the peacemakers for they shall be called children of God. Time and again Jesus challenged the use of violence to resolve issues. The call to be a peacemaker clearly involves embracing non-violence but goes beyond that. To be a peacemaker does not mean to be passive. It does mean to seek solutions, to find a path that all can agree to. A peacemaker objects to any war as a solution. This beatitude, though, calls us as well to foster inner peace. If I aspire to inner peace, I address resentments. I strive not to judge. I strive to quiet that inner chatter that can often be either fearful or aggressive. As a peacemaker, I embrace as my daily guide the Psalm “Be still and know that I am God.”
Blessed are they that suffer persecution for justice’s sake for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Sadly, there are at least a few prominent Christians who claim they are being persecuted. Whether you agree with that or not, this Beatitude does not speak to the issue of fair trails, etc. It speaks to the issue not only of justice as fairness but justice as moral. Thus, a current example of persecution for justice’s sake is the attempt of the State of Texas to shut down a program here in El Paso. Annunciation House has been a program of welcome for immigrants, legal or otherwise, for over 40 years. They are currently being accused of anything from harboring terrorists to being a stash house. Annunciation House has been a beacon of social justice. Because of persecution, they may be forced to close their doors.
The closing paragraph offers clarification on the issue of persecution. Jesus is comforting those who are persecuted in His name. The beatitude then refers to those who act and challenge based on Jesus’ teachings of love and compassion. People such as Dietrich Bonhoeffer and Maximillian Kolbe suffered death because they challenged Naziism as decidedly un-Christian. I think of Dorothy Day or Daniel Berrigan, persons who were imprisoned because they spoke out against a warring government and in the name of peace. These and others were persecuted because they spoke out in Jesus’ name.
The Beatitudes show me the way to be a Christian. They provide me with a template to assess how I am progressing as a Christian. And they provide me with a reference point in assessing the claims of public figures who claim to be Christian. We can only hope that the Christianity of today will not forget this guidance.
In the past I have written about heroes in my life. Several have been baseball players. But the fact is that, through my work, I meet heroes on a regular basis. I met one today.
When we think of heroes, we think of combat veterans, police officers, fire fighters. These men and women are indeed heroic. But many heroes live quietly in our midst.
The man I met today was indeed a combat veteran of two wars, having served as a medic in both. He presents himself without bitterness, acknowledging that his symptoms of PTSD are a price he is willing to pay for his years of service. This 94 year-old man was free of bitterness yet admits to memories of war every day. Through all of this, he has drawn on faith to sustain him.
I have known many other combat heroes who went about their business, trying not to draw attention to themselves. Another combat veteran I met had survived multiple attacks, including electrocution. When I asked him about faith, he affirmed his relationship with God, believing he’d been kept alive for a reason but humbly believing that the reason could be something as simple giving advice to a young soldier that would help that soldier stay alive.
The presence of heroes in my life has helped me hold onto hope. I think of a woman who drew on her faith to cope with the death of her husband in a mass shooting. I think of several people facing cancer, AIDS, and other life-threatening illnesses without bitterness, articulating how they faced death. One man whose eulogy I read at his funeral said “I know what I am doing now. I am singing.” He then encouraged each of us to find our own songs. He too faced death from AIDS without bitterness. Others took the time to share joyful moments that shaped their lives and shared some of that legacy with me. I think of a woman fighting an illness that eventually took her yet she took the time to share with me her joy in having known Dorothy Day.
I think of several people I have known, including my own parents, who tried to face the deaths of children. Some found a purpose to continue to live. Others drew quietly on their faith, trying to accept those tragic deaths as part of God’s will.
I think of the many people in recovery I have met, trying to live their lives free of alcohol or drugs or some other source of addiction. It is a true hero who prays for God to get him/her through the next day or even minute without taking a drink or a drug.
The list is extensive. Beyond finding hope, these and other heroes help me to focus on gratitude. They help me to humbly put my own issues into proper perspective. And many of them remind me of the power of faith in coping with tragedy.
We live in a time when our leaders hardly seem heroic, when many are using religion to further political agendas. My lengthy list of heroes helps me not give in to cynicism.
So I encourage you to take the time to make your own inventory of heroes who have touched and enriched your lives. If you’re not sure, just look around you. There are likely to be unsung heroes in your midst.
Pope Francis recently called for a Synod to examine the state of the Church and its direction. The first gathering last fall was intended to be the culmination of a series of meetings and studies at diocesan levels to generate an agenda for the Synod. In my own corner of the Church, I have heard nothing about the Synod. To educate myself, I would need to subscribe to magazines such as America that have examined the Synod process at some depth.
According the the U.S. Catholic News Service, some 700,000 U.S. Catholics were consulted as part of the Synod process. That number constitutes 1% of U.S. Catholics. The make-up of this 1% is unclear and so it is equally unclear as to how the people in the pews were represented. If anything, the Synod process may in fact contribute to a widening of the gap between laity and clergy.
There is much happening within the U.S. Catholic Church of which we in the pews are unaware. The Catholic Right Wing has become quite powerful and is strongly represented in the U.S. Council of Bishops as well as in the Supreme Court. This Right Wing has already counted victories in the undoing of Roe vs. Wade and the related issue of abortion rights. On the agenda of the Right Wing are also the undoing of issues related to gender rights. It would appear that the Right Wing also has its eye on the issue of birth control. It is unlikely that the Synod process will have much impact on the activities of the Right Wing. But, as Pope Francis appears to be nearing the end of his service as Pope, you can be sure that the Right Wing will actively promote the election of an archconservative new Pope. For some of us in the pews who are aware of the Catholic Right Wing, it makes us uneasy. On that Right Wing the Synod appears to be silent.
What then are issues of concern for we Catholics in the pews? We are concerned about the shortage of priests. It affects our accessibility to the Sacraments. Many of us are still disturbed by the pedophilia crisis that has rocked and continues to rock the Church. Some would like to think that the issue has gone away. It has not. Just recently a lawsuit was announced against the diocese of El Paso for a decades-old case that included a cover-up by the Church.
Many of the issues of concern overlap political issues of the day. Catholics appear divided regarding the issue of immigration. Many are aware of the American Church’s history of welcoming immigrants and many are aware of the involvement of some of our Bishops (such as El Paso’s own Bishop Seitz). At the same time, many Catholics are affected by political arguments, valid or not, of the impact of immigration of American way of life.
What many of us in the pews look for is an attitude of compassion within the Church. Compassion for the divorced. Compassion for those of a different sexual identity. Compassion for the migrant. Pope Francis’ efforts to instill such compassion have not always been well-received, And, although clergy tend to stay out of politics, we may look for guidance when making political decisions. Should I be concerned about a Catholic President who supports abortion rights? Should I be concerned about a former President’s friendship with a convicted sex criminal and his public statements about the ease of sexual conquests? Whose position on immigration is most consistent with Catholic teaching?
The concept of the Synod is valuable. Will it be revolutionary in the way that Vatican II was? If so, we laity need to be kept informed. The best vehicle for this communication would likely still be the pulpit to include letters from Bishops that are regularly read at Mass.
And, yes, there are many of us in the pews who don’t mind being made uncomfortable if our priests challenge us? Jesus’ messgae afterall was meant to make us uncomfortable about how we treat one another, uncomfortable about issues we tend to avoid, uncomfotable about the power of money and possessions. So far, there doesn’t seem to be anything about the Synod that makes those of us in the pews uncomfotable.
Many people have never heard of Senator Joseph McCarthy of Wisconsin, a man who, for a period of time in the late 40s and early 50s, was likely the most powerful man in America. Playing on fears of Communism subsequent to WWII, Sen. McCarthy, through the use of “false news” as well as character assassination, destroyed many lives and careers, both within government and in other fields such as the movie industry. “Naming Names” became a national obsession whereby people turned on one another, pointing fingers at suspected Communists. Various congressional committees to include the House Committee on UnAmerican Actitives as well as the Senate committee headed by Sen. McCarthy intimidated witnesses, threatening them if they refused to name names. Those who refused often had careers destroyed.
McCarthy began by alleging in a speech in West Virginia to have in his pocket a list of known Communists working in the State Department. Despite many requests from news reporters and others, it appears that no such list existed yet that list became the foundation for several years of McCarthy pursuing alleged Communists. His attacks included not only local school teachers but high powered individuals such as Gen. George Marshall, TV reporter Edward R. Murrow, and even Lucille Ball (no, not because she had red hair!)
McCarthy was a demagogue who astutely discerned that a level of national fear could be his meal ticket to power. As with other demagogues, however, his arrogance got the best of him when he chose to attack the U.S. Army, suggesting the presence of Communists at Ft. Dix New Jersey. The resulting hearings were televised and gripped the nation. For the first time, Americans saw a man in action whom they previously applauded. McCarthy did not play well on television, coming across as a bully and at times seeming “out of it”. In a dramatic confrontation with attorney Joseph Welsh, McCarthy began to lose his power base. He eventually was censured by the Senate and died of likely alcoholism.
One of Sen. McCarthy’s legal assistants was a man named Roy Cohn. This same man, well-versed in McCarthy’s tactics, later became mentor to a business man interested in politics. That man was Donald Trump.
Why address this dark chapter at this time? We live in a time of great fear. Fear of immigrants. Racial fears. Fear of government. Fear of disease. Fear of war. The times have been ripe for the emergence of a politician who can capitalize on those fears and indeed several have been and are prominent on the political stage. Some have been elected to public office. Some of these elected politicians even claim to know how and why God is punishing us.
To learn more about McCarthyism, historical documents are available. Here is a critical moment in the Army-McCarthy hearings to include Joseph Welch’s famous challenge “Have you no sense of decency?”
Several biographies of Joseph McCarthy are available. Larry Tye’s Demagogue: The Life and Long Shadow of Sen. Joe McCarthy is a recent one. The impact of McCarthyism in Hollywood is reflected in two classic movies. High Noon was written by Carl Foreman who, during his writing of the script, was called before HUAC and refused to name names. Like his character Will Cain, he faced intimidation alone, abandoned by many friends. Foreman was blacklisted in Hollywood for his refusal to name names. This scene from High Noon reflects Foreman facing HUAC — alone.
Contrasted with High Noon is On the Waterfront in which the main character Terry Malloy courageously speaks out against gang control of the docks in New York. The script is by Budd Schulberg and was directed by Elia Kazan, both of whom named names in the HUAC hearings. In this scene, we see a man testify against criminals, bravely naming names.
Why bother examining events and films from 70 years ago? During the McCarthyism era, conspiracies were alleged. People were judged and condemned because of sexual identity. False news was rampant. A public official used tactics of denial, lying, and bullying to get his way. We owe it to ourselves and to our country to pay attention to the lessons of the past.
The other day I was conversing with a man who had seen considerable combat and was judging himself for some of the things he did during combat. I asked him whether he had a spiritual perspective and he said “I am a bad Christian.”
These days there are many prominent people who present themselves as good Christians. One views himself as a good enough Christian that he endorsed a specific version of the Bible that also includes the Declaration of Independence as well as the lyrics to a song that celebrates the United States. Another recently stated she received word from God that certain natural events were God’s punishment.. A prominent actor presents himself as a spokesperson against what he sees as negative tendencies in the Catholic Church. A Catholic Bishop takes it upon himself to condemn the Pope. There are others.
At a less political level, I have known many Christians who believe their path is the correct one and that persons on other paths, Christian or otherwise, are at least misguided if not condemned.
Here then is an inventory if you will of what constitutes a bad Christian:
I have been labelled as a bad Christian on several occasions with terms such as “secularist”, “feminist”, and “enemy of the Church”. So talking about being a bad Christian is not hypothetical for me. In fact, I embrace it.
In case you are wondering, what I said to this man was “The only bad Christians I know of are those who claim to be good Christians and pass judgment on the rest of us.” He found that reassuring.