When he was at table with them, he took the bread. He blessed the bread, and broke it, and gave it to them. And their eyes were opened and they recognized him!(Luke 24:13-35)

Saturday, June 14, 2014

Birthday wishes

Frank Calvelli, (my father-in-law) or Papa, as his grandchildren called him, was born on June 14, 1914.  He passed away on October 23, 1995.  Today is his 100th birthday! 

He was very proud of the fact that he was born on Flag Day in the United States.  He was also very proud of his Italian heritage. His parents migrated here from Calabria, Italy at the turn of the century, which made him a first generation Italian. 

He was not a particularly religious man. Still, he was a very good man and patriotic American.  He served in Patton’s tank corps in Northern Africa during WWII.  He saw some heavy action that he rarely liked to talk about, but he would if pressed.  He said he had nightmares sometimes about the war, so we rarely did press him.
    
I knew him as a father longer than I knew even my own father.  He accepted me into his family and treated me like his own son without any reservations whatsoever.  When I asked for his daughter’s hand in marriage (yes, we still did things like that back then), he held up his index finger, and said only one word. That word described what he considered the most important trait a marriage needs for longevity.  “Respect” he said, as he held up that finger, then he repeated it—for effect—“Respect”.  He went on to explain that he would expect nothing more and would accept nothing less from the man who married his daughter.  I humbly submit that the longevity of my and Marilyn’s marriage and our continuously growing love is due in large part to his advice.

When his grandchildren came along, he loved them unconditionally and totally.  He acted gruff sometimes, but anyone who really knew him saw right through that, including his grandchildren. 

I often think of Papa and miss him terribly-- as much as I miss my own Dad.  I hope that I will see them again someday.  In the meantime, I hope and pray that I can continue to live my life in a way that would make them both proud.


Happy Birthday, Frank!  Happy Father’s Day to both of my fathers!

Wednesday, June 11, 2014

Anger Management

I came back to work yesterday after my nearly 2 week funeral leave.  I was confronted by a couple of managers lamenting about the animosity they perceive to be directed towards them by some of the other supervisors I work with.  While the wording of some of the emails they received does in fact sound demeaning and angry, I know both sides of the issues at hand and I think I was able to defuse a potentially damaging situation and save a few jobs through mediation.  Mom’s death and the ensuing meditations inspired by it seem to have given me (at least for now) a certain need for peaceful relationships in my everyday life.

It seems like we live in an age of anger.  We hear the phrase and maybe even feel “road rage” as well as read about celebrities and other offenders who need “anger management.”  So many situations today are causes or effects of anger: partisan politics, computer crashes, Boko Haram, airport security, inequality, umpires, Vladimir Putin, school shootings.  Wouldn’t it be great if all of us could, as the gospel recommends, let go of our anger and be reconciled with each other?  We need to be peacemakers—on the personal and global level.  We must release our rage or our need to win and embrace compromise, forgiveness, and mercy.  We must think of others with love and not think of them as Raqa, which in Aramaic means “imbecile.”  (Matthew 5:20-26)

As always, the way to God–the way to follow the supreme commandment of loving God—is through one another and the second greatest commandment.  In some respects, it is easier to love God, who isn’t trampling our petunias or invading our nation, than it is to love our neighbor.  It seems simpler and less messy to approach His altar than it is to have a meal or negotiate a peace treaty with those who have offended us or whom we’ve offended.  But Jesus is adamant.  We must settle with our opponents before going to God.  His allusions to the scribes and Pharisees, who were very big on the letter of the law and correct behavior, remind us that the spirit of the law is even more important.   Our actions should be infused with a sense of love; our hearts should not be hardened.  We must always aim for reconciliation because love of God and love of neighbor are inextricable.


The etymology of the word reconcile is from the Latin and means “to bring together again.”  As we consider this day, let’s look for opportunities to forgo anger, mend wounds, and get back together with those at odds with us.   

Friday, June 6, 2014

Feed My Sheep. Are we trying?

One of the benefits (if one can say that word in the context of grief) of taking the time off for Mom’s funeral has been the opportunity to go to several daily masses and offer them up for Mom, and to have my sister-in-law Marilyn around to discuss spiritual matters.  I used to have these discussions with Mom on Sundays when I brought her the Sacrament.  I really miss our Sunday talks.  I had no idea how thirsty I was for these “mini-bible studies”.  They helped me stay on my prayer regimen, and as my visit with Marilyn did today, they gave me inspiration to meditate on the Scriptures and write those thoughts in my blog.  I feel this blog is my attempt—however feeble—to evangelize.   I’m sorry I haven’t written regularly.  I guess I miss Mom and our weekly spiritual discussions more than I was willing to admit to myself.
   
Today, the first Friday of June, the Gospel was about the time just before the Ascension when Jesus and the Apostles were on the beach having a meal (or as Mark Hart says, “having a barbecue”.)  Jesus asks Peter 3 times “Do you love me?” (John 21:15-19)


 Many people suppose that when Jesus asks His question of Peter three times it is to balance out the three times that Peter denied Him, but maybe it is more a matter of Jesus driving home His point?  

My own reading is that if we really love Christ, and not just in words, we need to care for the members of His flock in all their variety --- the ewes, the lambs, and even the rams --- and in taking care of their needs, whatever they might be.  We must care for those who think they are poor and those who think they are rich, for those who believe themselves strong and those who are sure they are weak.  And we must care for those who are satisfied that they are serving God and those who don't care.  

We must go into their loneliness, their self-condemnation, their sin, their poverty in religious matters as well as physical ones, and their ignorance of God's absolute and unfailing love and forgiveness, and we must there touch their lives and heal them, nourish them, and be the Good News that Christ calls us to proclaim.  

As the hymn of the same title says, "They will know we are Christians by our love," an idea straight out of John 13:34-35.   Do we in fact love any and all of God's children?  In every circumstance?  Of course not.  

But are we trying?

Wednesday, June 4, 2014

Rest in Peace, Mom


Angela Marie (Batty) Farnsworth
February 21, 1919 to May 29, 2014


A priest was preaching one Sunday on the theme of “Love your enemies.” After a long sermon, he asked how many parishioners were willing to forgive their enemies. About half held up their hands. Not satisfied with this response, he preached for another 20 minutes and repeated his question. This time he received a response of about 80%. Still unsatisfied, he went on for another 15 minutes and repeated his question. With all thoughts now on Sunday dinner, everyone raised their hand except one elderly lady in the front row. “Mrs. Jones, are you not willing to forgive your enemies?” the priest asked. “I don't have any,” she said. Surprised, the priest said, “Ma’am, that is very unusual. How old are you?” “Ninety-two,” she responded. “Mrs. Jones, please tell me, how can you have lived to be 92 years old, and not have an enemy in the world.” The sweet little lady, smiled, and said simply. “Oh, Father, I’ve had plenty of enemies. It’s just that, at 92, I’ve outlived them all!”  Sounds a little like my Mom.

What a special gift Jesus gave us when from the cross He said to John, “Behold your Mother.”! (Jn 19:26-27).

Mothers always seem to know what you need and when you need it. I have a lot of very fond memories of times spent in my childhood when it was just Mom and me, which you would think would be difficult in a house with 4 brothers. I can’t begin to write down all of those memories, because A) There are too many, and B) I don’t have enough words in my vocabulary to express what those moments have meant to me. But I will share a few that I think about a lot.

When I was about 8 or 9 years old, I got caught stealing a candy bar from Dale’s market, directly across the street from our house (I should probably be on that television show, “America’s Dumbest Criminals!) The manager called Mom and she came over to get me. She pulled me home by my ear, really angry that I would betray her trust in me and embarrass her to the neighbors. She kept saying, “You’re going to confession! Today!” and “Your father’s going to punish you when he gets home!” When we got home, Mom sent me to my room and said, “Wait right here! When your father gets home, we’ll decide what to do with you!” 

All kinds of thoughts were running around in my head, not the least of which was “Man, this spanking is going to hurt!” Anyway, Dad came home and I got really scared. He was all for spanking me, but just as he was about to let loose on my behind, the phone rang, Dad said “Saved by the bell for the moment!” and he went out with Mom to see who it was, forgetting about me for the time being. It was Aunt Jenny. Mom told her what was going on and Aunt Jenny offered to come by and take the both of us to confession right then—me for stealing and Mom for losing her temper with me. By this time, Mom had pretty much cooled down anyway and was having second thoughts about spanking me. She could see that I was sorry. And I was. Truly sorry. Not because of the punishment I might and ought to receive, but because I had offended her and Dad, by not obeying them and staying out of trouble. I said as much to them and evidently Mom was satisfied enough with my contrition to talk Dad out of spanking me. 

But our trip to the confessional was still made—it was the occasion for me to learn yet another lesson. Sin is sin. Mom spent as much time in the “box” confessing her anger that day as I did for stealing a candy bar!
 
Mom loved Lawrence Welk! She watched his old shows almost as much as she watched EWTN. I think there were two reason for this. She and Dad watched it together back when the shows were first broadcast and it was often that Dad would take Mom by the hand and lead her to the middle of the living room floor and they would dance. Imagine that! In front of the kids and everything! Eww! Watching Lawrence Welk kept that memory of Dad's loving spontaneity alive for Mom. It also provided another excuse for her to share (yet again) that she was taught piano by Lawrence Welk's niece, Hildegard Braun. As many times as I heard that story—and Mom told it each time as if it were the first time I heard it—I only listened to her actually play on our old organ once. From what I remember of that recital, either Mom forgot most of what she was taught, or Lawrence Welk's niece was not much of a teacher!

Speaking of her stories; in her final weeks in the hospital, all of the doctors and nurses and therapists and care-givers remarked how keen and sharp-witted Mom was at 95. She certainly was gifted that way. One thing you could count on with Mom was that she would tell the same stories over and over and over again, but the facts of the stories never changed.

Mom once told me "I wish I could have made you all millionaires or something”. That reminds me of a story I once read:

There was a very rich man who had everything he had ever wanted and was so proud of himself he went riding on his horse one morning out to the countryside to survey his lands and congratulate himself for being so rich and successful.

He came upon an old man, Hans, who was known as a vagrant and prophet of God sitting under an old oak tree and eating his simple lunch of a piece of cheese and some stale water. "God bless you, sir!" the old man said to the rich man. "Harrumph!", said the rich man with a snort, "It was by my own hard work and diligence that I am the richest man in this country. Your God had nothing to do with it!"

"Nevertheless", said Hans, "I had a dream last night that the richest man in the country is going to die tonight, so I will continue to pray for you."

"Harrumph!" he replied again, saying under his breath "What a crazy old man!"

As the day wore on though, the rich man started to wonder if the old man could possibly be right so he sent for his doctor. After a thorough examination, he was given a clean bill of health and a chide from his doctor for believing in "fairy tales told by old men". He went to bed that night feeling as proud of himself as he always did.

The next morning, his neighbor visited and asked, "Did you hear the news? The old man, Hans, died last night!"

Mom, by sharing your faith with us, you have made us millionaires. There is no greater wealth than a faith in our Creator.  God bless you.

The most spiritually profound memory I will keep of Mom and one that is shared by everyone here without question is her complete devotion to the rosary and the Divine Mercy chaplet. 

I have often thought, and I confess to everyone here and now that I know God exists because of Mom's unwavering faith and prayers. Faith is a gift given to us by God. But it is taught to us and nurtured by our parents. Mom’s example of uncompromising faith and prayers are the “insulin shot” I need at those times when my own faith grows weak. I can only aspire to be for my children and grandchildren the example of faith my Mom has been for me.

You could set your clocks to Mom’s prayers. At noon each day she would stop whatever else she was doing and recite one of her many daily rosaries. She said a different rosary for each intention (and for each one of us). Sometimes she would say it quietly to herself and sometimes she would use some form of media—television or radio or cassette or DVD to “help” her along.  And there were a lot of times we said multiple rosaries together during our trips down here to Simi from Lodi.   

At 3pm each day (the hour Christ died on the cross) she would recite the Divine Mercy. That devotion is a relatively new one that was promulgated by Pope (Saint) John Paul II when he canonized St. Faustina in 2000. But the rosary devotion was hers since she could speak. I never knew her to miss a rosary in my entire life. She truly was the epitome of what is known as a “prayer warrior”. How gracious was it that Jesus called her home on the Feast of His Ascension at noon? Praised be Jesus Christ!

I also have memories about our discussions on faith, life, and yes—even death and the new life that death on Earth brings us to. But those are pretty deep and I think Mom would like to keep her remembrance on the lighter side.

As a lot of the saints do, Mom had such a great sense of humor! Oftentimes I would tell a joke that would be so mangled I would screw up the punchline. Mom would laugh anyway and then say SHE had already heard the joke before, then she would retell it to me the right way!

While in the car a few days ago, Janie related a funny story about Mom and her sisters. Aunt Barbara, Aunt Theresa and Mom were all traveling somewhere when one of them remarked “If we were to have an accident right now and die, I'm ready.” The other agreed and said “Me, too! I'm ready whenever the Lord wants me!” From the back seat Mom piped in, “Then pull over at the next corner and let me out!”

I wrote a prayer for Mom on her birthday about 3 years ago. I’d like to share that now:

Lord Jesus, You have known Your Mother’s love and tender care so please hear our prayer for our own mother, Your devoted daughter, on this day we remember her.

Just as she gave life to her children and has given her best to protect us these many years, please protect her now and let her feel safe in the Light of Life that flows through You.

Take from her all her anxieties and fears and fulfill all of her wishes. If Your will is to refuse her any of those wishes, let even the refusals bring her comfort, as she has comforted her children even in her occasional refusals for our own good.

Though we, her children, can never repay her for all she has given us we have confidence that You will repay her for us one day when she rests in the sweet embrace of Your own Mother.  Amen.

I’m sure that each of my brothers and our wives has a “special” memory of Mom that shows what a powerful effect a mother’s love can have on any one of us, and how she can protect us from pain and suffering, just as I’m sure Jesus has similar stories to tell about His special moments with His mother that were never written down in the Bible. How great His love is to share His Mother with us, so we can build similar memories with her. 

And just as Mom was able to intercede for me to Dad so that he stayed his hand on my bottom that day I stole the candy bar, so our Blessed Mother does for us with her Son.

I would like to conclude with Mom’s all-time favorite prayer:

Hail, Mary, full of grace! The Lord is with you. Blessed are you among women and Blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus.
Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now, and at the hour of our death. Amen