Sunday, March 22, 2020

It’s Time to Ask Yourself What You Believe








Last Saturday morning was extraordinarily beautiful – the second day of Spring, in fact. I was asleep in bed and the sun was shining on my face as my cat Neo hopped on my chest to telepathically say, “Feed me!” I shook myself awake and realized it was Saturday of the second weekend of coronavirus quarantine. Normally, I spend part of my Saturday preparing for Sunday liturgy, getting music books ready for our parish instrumentalists and for myself. But there would be no public Sunday liturgy to prepare for because of our governor’s decree of no large gatherings for fear of the spread of COVID-19. 

I have pretty much spent the past week home alone with my brother Orlando and my cat who, by the way, was impatient with me as I slowly trudged downstairs to put food into his bowl. I was getting the coffee started when my iPhone went, “Ding!” It was a text message from my sister Teresa in Los Angeles. 

Let me explain that most of my family doesn’t hear very well so we don’t speak to each other on the phone. Texting is our preferred method of communication, and this morning my sister sent out a group text to our clan who is scattered across the West Coast from Los Angeles, through Portland, and on up to Seattle – plus one niece in North Carolina. 

“Hi, Family. Delfin is in the hospital again . . .” 

Delfin is my younger brother, fourth in a family of nine siblings. An artistic soul who paints, makes pottery, plays flute and writes poetry, Delfin has books of original poems published and available on Amazon. Several weeks ago, he was hospitalized for some kidney problems but he seemed to recover well from that. So Teresa’s text surprised me and the details were alarming. Delfin was suffering internal bleeding from an unknown source and had to be rushed to the hospital. While there, he suffered cardiac arrest and now he is intubated and in serious condition. 

My sibs and I asked questions and discussed our concerns. The only thing we could do now was wait for the next report as doctors worked to find out the source of the bleeding. 

Waiting is probably the most difficult thing to do when a loved one is hospitalized. Everyone has experienced what it’s like in a hospital waiting room, but it becomes even more challenging when the family is scattered around the country as we are. I learned long ago that the best thing to do while waiting is to pray. Thanks to social media, I’m able to ask friends from around the world to join me in prayer. 

I put the word out on my Facebook pages and Twitter, and friends there shared my prayer request with their circles. Delfin’s name was enrolled in my parish prayer list, and my choir is also praying. I also mentioned my brother in a worldwide Rosary circle that I pray with. As the morning unfolded, I estimated 800-plus people around the world were praying for my brother. I texted that info to my family. They were amazed and grateful. 

Numbers might be impressive but I know it begs a question for some people: What good does prayer do at times like this? Will prayer really influence God and result in a desired outcome? The short answer is simply No. God is not Santa Claus, and we are not naïve but hopeful children sitting on his lap at Macy’s department store. What happens if we don’t get what we pray for? Do we stop believing in God? 

It was theologian and philosopher Soren Kierkegaard who gave the world this memorable quote: “Prayer does not change God. Prayer changes us.” His thinking is right on, for if we think that our prayer produces a desired outcome then we are setting ourselves up for disappointment. Prayer inspires us to accept God’s will, whatever that is and no matter that it might not match our will. Is that defeatist philosophy? If we don’t get what we’re asking for, why pray at all? 

I believe the power of prayer lies not in getting what we want but, rather, in assuring us that we are not alone in our ordeal. Whatever the outcome, God’s will be done. And although we might not realize or understand it at the moment, God’s will is infinitely wiser than our ability to see only what is before us. That’s a hard pill to swallow, especially in time of crisis, but I find solace and hope in knowing that I am not alone. 

My family’s concerns for our brother lie within the larger world’s coronavirus crisis. What is God’s will in all this? We don’t know. We pray in solidarity that God’s wisdom will eventually be revealed to us. Or, as the villain in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade said to our hero: “It’s time to ask yourself what you believe.” 







What do I believe? I believe that Jesus Christ is Lord. I believe that God sent Jesus to us with the promise of eternal life. God so loved the world, and it is my faith in that divine love that sustains me and gives me hope – no matter what calamities or crises come my way. God’s will be done. 










Wednesday, March 18, 2020

Fear Is Useless






The new normal. One hears those three words a lot in this strange time of coronavirus crisis. Everything has stopped. The Archbishop of Portland has sadly decreed no weekend liturgies until at least mid-April and possibly even later than that, although the ministry of my parish continues. I am working from home and connecting with my office colleagues through the usual electronic outlets, including virtual meetings via video conferencing. I haven’t used my car in several days. Like most other Americans, I am literally quarantined in my humble home with no physical contact with anyone except my brother and my cat. I miss social interaction at the office during the week but what I really yearn for is Sunday Eucharist with my parish community. 

To be honest, I am not sure where I am going with this blog. I’m just typing this up as I go along, rambling on as someone who has spent too much time alone. Haven’t we all? I seemed to touch a nerve with my last blog in which I was honest about my fears about COVID-19. Almost 200 views in one day! I received a couple of snipey comments from people who deny the seriousness of the crisis, but I realize that skepticism is their response to the unknown. 

That’s basically what it’s all about, isn’t it? Fear of the unknown. We moderns delude ourselves into thinking we are in control of our destiny, and advances in science, medicine and technology support that illusion. But when it comes right down to it, we’re all marching at various speeds toward death, the great mystery for which there has been no satisfactory explanation. 

At this writing, the coronavirus has already taken the lives of more than a hundred people in the United States and 8,911 deaths worldwide. It will potentially get worse because anyone can be an unwitting carrier. Hence, the need for extreme quarantine. The fear is palpable, but what did Jesus say? 

Fear is useless. What is needed is trust.
-Mark 5:36 

Jesus said that in response to news of the death of the daughter of Jairus, a synagogue official. In desperation, Jairus sought out the great Miracle Worker among the crowds while he was teaching and healing. By the time Jesus arrived at the official’s house, people there said, “Do not trouble the Teacher further. Your daughter is dead.” Jesus ignored them and proceeded to bring this 12-year-old girl back to life. 

There is much wisdom in this Gospel passage. People in Jairus’ household had basically given up and even mocked Jesus when he said the girl was only asleep. Perhaps at great personal risk to his standing as a synagogue official, Jairus elbowed his way through the crowds of people to humbly ask Jesus’ assistance. Jairus didn’t care what anybody else thought. In the face of the unknown, with death literally knocking on his door, he could only trust Jesus. 

Fear is useless. What is needed is trust. 

As we wade through the unprecedented unknown of the coronavirus crisis, perhaps we could learn to trust God more. Many of us are getting bored at home alone. If we could transform that boredom into a deep prayer of trust, fear will go a long way in becoming useless. 


Sunday, March 15, 2020

Of Closed Churches and Generational Differences on COVID-19






It is very strange to sleep in on the Lord’s Day and not have to rush out to my parish where, on any normal Sunday, I accompany on piano for three liturgies. But this is not any normal Sunday. At this writing, the United States, Europe, Asia, Australia, and other countries are in lockdown because of the novel coronavirus or COVID-19, a pandemic that has gripped the world. Other sources have expounded on the details so there’s no need for me to repeat them here. But, with a 14-day incubation period, anybody could be an unwitting carrier of the virus that, among other things, causes extreme flu-like symptoms and, within the over-60 generation, possibly even death. 

Death. Right. I am in that demographic and COVID-19 was never on my plate as a possible way to die. As a matter of fact, I don’t want to die. Not yet, anyway. I have so much more that I want to do in life, so many more songs to compose, so many more books to write, so many more places to visit on this beautiful Earth. So please excuse me if I seem a little paranoid as I quarantine myself from the outside world. 

The controversy within my pastoral musician peer group, of course, is the closure of churches. Many bishops of many dioceses have closed down parish churches in order to curtail the spread of coronavirus. The bishops are wisely erring on the side of caution. Just Google “Catholic dioceses Mass cancellations” to see how widespread the closure is. 

My parish, Holy Trinity in Beaverton, Oregon, is closed for at least the next two weeks. We will not have Sunday liturgy on the weekends of March 14-15 and 21-22. My pastor is over 60. Half my choir is over 60. One third or more of my parishioners are over 60. My choir director is over 60. I’m over 60. Pardon me if we hedge our bets by practicing radical social distancing.

So I have no sympathy for my younger peers who are moaning about how the media and government officials and church hierarchy are overreacting to this pandemic. I cringe at how my younger peers are boasting on social media that their churches are “open for business.” I disagree with their argument that in recent years, the common flu caused more illnesses and deaths that COVID-19 – at least thus far. The coronavirus is totally new territory for which there is no vaccine or “flu shot” to combat it. Do my pastoral musician peers really want to face the prospect of several weeks of non-stop funerals? 

I choose life! I want to live! What’s wrong with that? 

I missed being with my people on Sunday. I missed doing dynamic music ministry with my choir and fellow parish musicians. I missed the Eucharist and intimate Communion with Jesus. I look forward to the day when we will all regather and celebrate the Risen Christ in our midst. Until then, here is a prayer from Saint Francis de Sales that my pastor, Father Dave Gutmann, posted on our parish website: 


Do not fear what may happen tomorrow; the same understanding Father who cares for you today will take care of you then and every day. He will either shield you from suffering or will give you unfailing strength to bear it. Be at peace then, and put aside all anxious thoughts and imaginations.
-Saint Francis de Sales