After an exhausting but fulfilling Sunday of presenting my books and meeting the public, I went back to Kevin and Siena’s house in Danville to fix dinner and chill out a bit. George was waiting for me with a paper bag in his mouth, part of a game we play. I’m required to lock Steve in the bathroom when I’m gone so he won’t get into trouble, and as soon as I opened the door he zoomed out and looked for his doggy buddy.
I decided to make a simple sandwich for dinner and George watched me with interest in the kitchen. Meanwhile, Steve was prancing on the dining table and counters, something he is not supposed to do. At one point, he jumped into the sink! Luckily, there were no dishes in it. Steve is eternally happy and playful; George just wants my attention, and now he had a ball in his mouth so we could play catch later.
I have known George since he was a puppy, and he always remembers me, no matter how long it has been since my last visit. This was my first encounter with Steve. He was hesitant at first but we became quick pals. He started following me around the house, sitting in my lap when I’m at the computer desk or watching TV. By the third morning, Steve greeted me in the hallway by jumping up my pant leg and clawing his way into my arms. Awwww.
I have never seen a dog and a cat get along as affectionately as these two. One evening, as Steve was sitting on my lap, George came over to rest his head on my leg so he could give his friend a friendly lick. In return, Steve placed a gentle paw on George’s snout. It was amazing and touching to see this interspecies bromance.
George and Steve are quite a handful, and I could see why their humans need someone to stay with them. Many times I had to break up their playful wrestling matches because George is so much bigger, although I’m sure he would never intentionally hurt his friend. As the week continued and I sold more books, the empty boxes became the boys’ playground, in the same way that little kids like to play “fort” with chairs and sofa pillows. Steve loved jumping from box to box, even as George grabbed brown shipping paper in his mouth to run across the house with it. Of course, Steve got excited by this and chased after his buddy. By the end of my stay, I had quite a mess of shredded shipping paper to clean up!
Sunday night I drove down to the Diocese of San Jose to present a book signing concert at Church of the Resurrection in Sunnyvale. Music Director Amy Stacke, a longtime Facebook friend, hosted the event which was fairly well attended. The original plan was for the parish choir to sing with me in the sanctuary, but we decided it would be more effective for them to sing in the pews and help foster a better sense of assembly singing with those in attendance.
People seemed regaled by my stories of the composers and their times, and they enjoyed singing the grand old songs of the 1970s and 80s. Book sales were brisk; some people were already shopping for Christmas! The pastor, Father Phong Nguyen, bought 20 copies of From Mountains High on the spot to give as “welcome” gifts to the newcomers of the parish!
Thank you, Amy and Fr. Nguyen, for your warm hospitality. It was a fun and memorable evening.
Here are some photos from the event. Please note the beagle in the bottom right corner of the sanctuary’s stained-glass window. It’s the beloved dog of a previous pastor. Sweet!
I had these grandiose plans to do a series of blogs on my Bay Area Book Tour last Fall to promote From Mountains High but my busy life got in the way. I do want to do continuous blogging but I feel an obligation to complete my tour narrative before I move on from it.
I had four appearances in early September. My first stop was at St. Monica Church in Moraga, California. This was my beloved parish community where I served as pastoral musician and youth minister from 1993 through 2000 – in many ways, the happiest years of my life. I started composing liturgical music in earnest there. In fact, the song “Fly Like a Bird” came from my experience at St. Monica. I also had a memorable tenure as youth minister and forged friendships with young people that continue to this day.
Since I left Moraga in the year 2000, there has been a succession of three different pastors, each bringing their own unique charisms and pastoral style that was so different from the progressive outreach of the pastors I served with. It is not my intention to criticize the other priests, whom I don’t really know. They have a right to administer their parish as they feel called to do. But over the years I have been less inclined to visit Moraga as the friends and families I served moved on from St. Monica. My youth group teens grew up and started their own careers and families. Other friends sought communities elsewhere that they felt served their needs better. In the case of many parishioners I knew, they are no longer with us since the Lord called them home from this life. I had been away from St. Monica for 18 years. A lot can happen in the life of a parish in almost two decades.
So it was with a bit of hesitation that I drove into the St. Monica parking lot on that sunny September morning. The new pastor welcomed me to sell my books and CDs after the morning Masses but not lead a concert event. That was fine. But would there be anyone left from the old days who would remember me?
My fears were unfounded. As soon as I stepped out of my borrowed car, I was greeted warmly by Annmarie, whose son Jimmy was a 4-year-old in the day care center that shared a space with my youth ministry office. Annmarie told me that Jimmy was now all grown up and graduated from college and settled in a career working in the great outdoors. He still remembers fondly how I used to make him paper Bat-Planes in the day care center.
And so it went. Before and after the two morning liturgies I had a blessed reunion with parish friends who are now senior citizens; parents of my youth group teens (some with grandchildren in tow – yes, children of my teens); and a handful of my old youth group, now all grown up. It was great to see everyone!
I also popped into the choir rehearsal room to say hello. Brad is still directing them after all these years, and some friends from my time as their pianist are still singing, including Stephanie and Clara. But most of the singers are new to me. It was very nice of the choir to sing one of my songs, “God Calls Us Each by Name.” during the 11:00 Mass. And I emptied two boxes of my books as friends eagerly bought them up and had me sign them.
Special thanks to Frank Hale, who organized my visit, and Father Paul Coleman, who welcomed me warmly. Yes, you CAN go home again!
When I was at St. Monica Parish in Moraga in the 1990s, we had a succession of good people who served as youth minister until I eventually said Yes to the job. Through all the changes, there was one constant: Andy Berkes, an enthusiastic teenager who grew up to be a remarkable young man. We could always rely on Andy to lead prayer at our weekly youth group meetings or take charge of the ice breaker. He was a natural leader at our annual summer workcamps where we helped build or repair homes in struggling neighborhoods around the country. We stayed in touch over the years and it came as no surprise to me when Andy decided to study theology at the Aquinas Institute of Theology in St. Louis and became a youth minister himself. He eventually went into a career as a teacher at Catholic high schools.
In the early 2000s, Andy shared with me his joy in finding his soulmate Unni Elizabeth, and they asked if I could provide the music at their wedding liturgy. How could I say No? Their wedding in San Bernardino was one of my highlights of that decade as I shared in that special day with their family and friends.
Our lives unfolded in divergent paths but we followed each other on Facebook. Jesse Manibusan and I even did a concert at their parish in St. Louis back in the mid-2000s. Eventually, Andy and Unni resettled back in Moraga and I so enjoyed their annual Christmas photo cards as I saw their three children growing up with each passing year. As I planned for my 2018 Bay Area book tour, I knew I had to make time to visit with the Berkes family.
I rang the doorbell of their Moraga condo and was greeted enthusiastically by Andy and Unni’s two smiling daughters, Sarita and Sonali. I immediately saw in them their father’s endearing personality. Inside, Daniel was warming up on his clarinet. The three children are budding instrumentalists and they were planning to treat me with a concert. How delightful!
I was very impressed with the kids’ musicianship. Daniel and Sarita have great tone on their clarinet and flute. Sonali played her piano lessons well and she has a commendable sense of good beat and timing for someone so young. I predict these children will go far as musicians if they stick with it. Then it was my turn. Their parents asked me to play piano and I obliged with some Scott Joplin ragtime, and Sonali kept watching my fingers. We eventually sang my song, “Fly Like a Bird” that I composed while I was youth minister at St. Monica. The kids and their mom sang along and it was a very moving experience.
As we munched on appetizers, Andy shared with me the challenges and joys of teaching religion at De La Salle, a Catholic boys high school in Concord. Some of the students are obviously only trying to meet a course requirement, but then there are those who are actively engaged and show deep interest in their faith and in what’s happening in the Church today. It was a thoughtful conversation and it did my heart good to see how far this young man had come since our youth group days at St. Monica Parish.
Then the doorbell rang and Unni’s family walked in to join us for dinner. Her parents and other relatives made the decision to move to Moraga from San Bernardino so they could be with the grandchildren. Andy’s parents also live in Moraga, so the kids have the joy of living in close proximity with grandparents, uncles, aunts and cousins. God has deeply blessed this remarkable family!
Unni’s father, Dr. Joseph Malancharuvil, is also an author, so we had a lot in common as we shared how we do our craft. He gifted me with his latest book, The Spirit of Joy.I have already started reading it. Very insightful and enjoyable!
The home cooked dinner was delicious and I truly cherished spending this wonderful evening with Andy and Unni’s family. Thank you, dear friends!
Andy and Unni are also involved in the ministries of liturgy and faith formation at their parish, St. Perpetua in Lafayette. We are in preliminary discussion about the possibility of my giving a workshop at their parish after the New Year. I will look forward to that!
My friends Kevin and Siena graciously opened their beautiful Danville home to me for the week. It was a great arrangement because I would be house sitting while they were away on vacation to visit family in Philadelphia. Kevin is a friend from St. Monica Parish in Moraga where I served in the 1990s. I played music for their wedding liturgy last year. That was a fun and awesome day!
Part of the house sitting involved taking care of my friends’ beloved pets: George the Dog, a smiling golden retriever, and Steve the Cat, an equally golden kitten with tiger-like stripes. Dog and cat, together? Yes! They are best pals. George and Steve love hanging out with each other. I’m not really sure they understand that they’re of different species. All they know is that they are four-legged creatures who live together with two loving and caring humans. And now they had a new human to break in.
I waved to Kevin and Siena as they drove out to the airport on Friday morning. George and Steve were watching them from the front window. I think they realized their humans were going away but they didn’t seem too sad about it. In fact, no sooner did the car pull away then Steve started jumping around all over the living room on top of my boxes of books and CDs that OCP shipped to the house. I opened each box to take inventory and Steve hopped right in. I had to pull him out by the scruff of his neck so he wouldn’t chew on my books. Meanwhile, George was running around in circles with the package stuffing in his mouth. “This will be an interesting week,” I thought to myself as I laughed at their antics.
If there’s a constant to my traveling habits, it is this: I always pack at the last minute. Always! I’m not sure why. Maybe deep down inside, I’m a homeboy and I really don’t want to go anywhere. But I’m a composer, author and musician, and travel I must. Besides, I have really looked forward to this particular trip, a Bay Area tour to promote my new book, From Mountains High.
My flight was at a reasonable 11:00am, which meant I needed to be at Portland airport at 9:00am, which meant I had to leave home around 7:00am in order to beat rush hour traffic, which meant waking up at 4:00am to pack. Yes, I need all that lead time to straggle out of bed and get cleaned up. Did I mention that I hate packing?
My cat Neo hates packing, too. He knows that when I take out my travel bags that means I’m going away, so he protests by climbing into my bag or suitcase, blocking my efforts at packing. It’s amusing but get out of the way, Neo!
As expected, traffic was awful. This summer, the Oregon Department of Transportation has been in road construction mode, with all major Portland freeways taking turns at a closure that has caused nightmarish backups during the crucial commute times. I have been able to get around the congestion most of the summer by taking alternate routes but this morning I had to be prepared for delays that might make me late for my flight. Hence, the way-too-early wake-up call.
Bottom line, I made it to the airport, I checked in, and my plane took off on schedule. For me, the best flight occurs when I fall asleep on takeoff and wake up on landing. I opened my eyes after a 90-minute snooze and I was happily in Oakland, California. Yay! Successful flight!
My middle name is Juan and I was named after my grandfather in the Philippines whom I never met. Over the years, I have adopted a number of holy men named “John” as my patron saint: John the Evangelist. John of the Cross. John Vianney. John of Capistrano. Juan Diego. Lately, on the cusp my senior years, I have turned to Saint John the Baptist.
He is a biblical saint with no body of writing and no religious community that has preserved his wisdom and traditions. Our only source on the Baptizer are the four gospels which each have unique and contradictory accounts. All four evangelists speak, in various degrees, of Jesus’ baptism by John. They each speak of John’s ministry as the forerunner or herald of the Christ, citing the Isaiah passage of “the voice of one crying out in the wilderness: Prepare the way of the Lord! Make straight in the wasteland a highway for our God!” (Isaiah 40:3) Luke tells the story of John’s miraculous birth by elderly parents, of family kinship with Jesus, and how John pointed the way to Jesus even from his mother’s womb. Mark and Matthew give detailed accounts of John’s death by beheading at the hands of Herod.
In the Fourth Gospel, John the Baptist is described as the man “sent by God to bear witness to the light,” i.e., the light of Jesus Christ. Indeed, John the Evangelist attributes three quotes to John the Baptist that can be seen as his mission statements. These quotes speak so deeply to me at this time in my life. One grows accustomed to disappointment and unfulfilled expectations as the years unfold. It is so easy to succumb to bitterness and depression, to withdraw into a tiny shell, away from hurt and betrayal. John the Baptist shows me another way: Live for Christ!
“Here is the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world.” (John 1:29)
Life is full of regrets, of second thoughts for decisions made in haste or under duress, of words said in anger that can’t be taken back. Unfortunately, these regrets can last a lifetime and affect relationships and mental health. John the Baptist points us to Jesus as the Lamb of God, the Paschal sacrifice, whose death upon the Cross brought about the forgiveness of our sins. If God forgives us, why can’t we forgive ourselves?
“I am not the Messiah but I have been sent ahead of him…” (John 3:28)
This is something my pastor is fond of reminding us in his homilies: I AM NOT GOD. I do not have the power or the wherewithal to fix everything, to solve all problems, and to make everything perfect. That’s God’s job, in God’s time. Instead of thinking of myself as the Messiah, I can lead others to him by word and example. That’s a tremendous weight lifted off my shoulders!
“He must increase but I must decrease.” (John 3:30)
This does not mean putting myself down. I see this quote as the great secret of Christianity. Let Christ be the central influence in my life, the One who motivates my choices and lifestyle. Let Christ shine through me in what I say and do, even when little things irritate and annoy me, or when the big issues in today’s world anger me. Christ must increase.
By extension, this means the Christ who lives in others. Can I see Christ in the downtown homeless person who is asking for a handout? Can I see Jesus in the face of the co-worker who constantly complains, or in the relative or friend who has seemingly become invisible with each passing year?
According to the gospels, John the Baptist had a good thing going. His fiery preaching and his baptism of repentance attracted commoners and Pharisees, who flocked to him in sizeable numbers at the Jordan River. We know he had disciples because he sent them to Jesus. In fact, despite his success as an itinerant preacher, he willingly passed on the mantle to his cousin, whose sandal straps he “was not worthy to unfasten.” And then he withdrew from the scene as Jesus’ ministry soared.
John points the way to Christ even to this day. Consider that his birthday, June 24, falls shortly after the summer solstice, when the days begin to gradually get shorter. Through the ingenuous poetry of the liturgical calendar, on his nativity John the Baptist is pointing toward the nativity of Jesus Christ six months later. December 25 is shortly after the winter solstice, when the days begin to get longer. Thus, through the growing darkness that begins on his birthday, John the Baptist points once again to Jesus Christ, the light of the world who conquers the darkness of sin.
“He must increase but I must decrease.” Amen.
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"John the Baptist" is a very early song by my friend Bob Hurd, recorded in 1974 for his first album, O Let Him In. Not a liturgical song, this is a Christian folk song on the cult that surely surrounded John the Baptist back in the day.
KEN CANEDO is a Catholic liturgical composer and author. Long involved with Spirit & Song, the contemporary division of OCP, he is the voice behind the popular weekly Liturgy Podcast. His most recent album is Fish With Me, Ken's second collaboration with longtime friend Jesse Manibusan. He currently serves as pastoral musician at Holy Trinity Parish in Beaverton, Oregon, where he also helps out with RCIA.
Ken's articles have appeared in Ministry & Liturgy magazine, and in Today’s Liturgy. His first book, Keep the Fire Burning: The Folk Mass Revolution, was released in 2009 by Pastoral Press. The sequel, From Mountains High, was released in May 2018.
Visit Ken's website at www.kencanedo.com to hear his radio interviews, read his magazine articles, and listen to music podcasts featuring the music of the Folk Mass.
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