Power

04/09/14 • -1 min

Road to Healing – Lenten Journey 2014
Day 38:
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Our first parish was in a town called Cupertino about 50 miles south of San Francisco, an area that was developing its identity as Silicon Valley as we were developing our identity as a family. All of our children were born here.
A pastor’s family is always blessed with having so many aunts and uncles. The kind people of the parish and our family engaged in what I call reciprocal-adoption. It was a special time in our life, and very rich with “family” especially considering that both my and my wife’s parents, brothers, sisters and their children all live well over 400 miles away in Southern California.
My brother found every opportunity he could to come and visit with us and his nephews. He’d take the 1 hour airplane trip up the coast and we’d be on the receiving end to pick him up at San Jose Airport. Many times we’d get there a bit early and park our car at the end of the runway and watch the planes take off and land. We’d do it for the boys but I think it was obvious who got the most excitement out of these excursions. And then, when that big Southwest airplane rumbled the air above us and landed down aways, I’d point to it and tell the kids, “There’s Uncle Haig! Let’s go pick him up.” We’d drive over to the terminal in time to watch him come off the plane.
After the weekend – or sometimes we’d be lucky and get him a bit longer – we’d take Uncle Haig to the airport. This time we’d walk him all the way to the gate (yes, this is a bit of pre-9/11 history), say our good-byes and watch the plane back out. San Jose Airport was perfect for plane watching. We’d get in the car and go to the end of the runway. As the plane took off from the tarmac to the sky we’d wave, “Bye Uncle Haig!”
Now when the kids were very small, when we’d get home they’d be playing in the yard and their sharp senses would spot a plane high up in the sky. They would get so happy and excited as they pointed to the small object in the sky, “Look dad. Look mom. There’s Uncle Haig.”
In response to their cuteness, we’d play along with an assuring, “There he goes... wave to him...”
At various times – perhaps days or even weeks later – between visits, our kids would spot a plane say with the same enthusiasm as moments after the flight took off, “There’s Uncle Haig.” And with their little hands they’d wave to the plane high up in the sky.
It was on one of his visits that my brother figured out that our children thought that he was in a perpetual state of flight! They would say goodbye to their uncle at the airport... He’d get on the plane... then the next time they’d see him he’d be coming off the plane. For all they knew, he was always in flight until the next time they’d see him, once again coming off the plane. Think of it in terms of a 3 or 4 year old. Without the knowledge that planes land elsewhere to deliver and pick up passengers, you would assume the flight has a circular route, beginning and ending with you. Why would you think otherwise? As we mature, our world view changes and our understanding of the world develops as we connect the dots between events, places, people and feelings. And soon we, as did my kids, have a new understanding. Uncle Haig got on a plane to come to see us... he lives somewhere else... he needs to return to that somewhere else... and we look forward to his next visit.*
As much as you don’t want your children to grow up with a skewed perception of reality, there is something to be said about the naiveté and innocence of their primal understandings of life.
Francis Bacon has said, “Knowledge is power.” Now it remains for us to understand what that power is. As we are moving forward on this Road to Healing, we have matured in many ways. Through our meditations and prayers, we have connected dots between our illnesses, their causes and our control (or lack of control) over the variety of factors in the healing process. But understanding doesn’t necessarily mean control over events. Rather, it means reconciliation and control over our self.
Understanding that the plane doesn’t stay up in the sky forever, doesn’t mean we control the flight nor do we have the power to alter its properties. The power is in our ability to reconcile and take control of our self.
Here is a prayer for this day of our journey. It is an ancient Armenian blessing, appealing to the Holy Cross along with a simple meditation: The Cross of Christ can be understood or misunderstood. Its understanding does not change reality, but brings reconciliation and control over our lives.
Keep us in peace, O Christ our God, u...

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Hosanna

Road to Healing – Lenten Journey 2014
Day 37:
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Hosanna is an exclamation of praise. It’s used in the Bible to express adoration, praise and joy. It is also used as a name in the Armenian culture. I’ve met many Hosanna’s through the years. Some have abbreviated their name and go by Osan or even Hosi! (I always like that derivative of the name – it just sounds fun, doesn’t it? Hosi!)

But the lady who sits in the 3rd pew of our church goes by the full name, Hosanna. She attends church religiously - as if there’s any other way to attend! For her there isn’t. She comes every Sunday with her husband of 60 years. Last year when they celebrated their 60th Anniversary, I made a point of congratulating them in church just before the sermon. As I announced this milestone to the congregation, this cute couple got up and took a modest bow and she shared a blessing with everyone – wishing that others could enjoy this many years. And then she shared her formula for success, “60 years and never a crossed look or an argument between us!”
Yeah, I know, Dr. Phil and the lot will probably suggest some repressed or suppressed emotions. Actually, I have my own theories about how this marriage has lasted, but hey, at this point does it matter? Let’s just say, thank God that they want to share the wealth with their blessing.
Last Sunday Hosanna was missing from church. I have to confess that I didn’t notice until after services when her children approached me and told me that she had gone to the hospital and wanted to receive Holy Communion. I didn’t ask too many questions, but promised I’d visit that day.
I took a portion of the reserved Sacrament and headed out. As life would have it I didn’t make it to the hospital until late that evening. There was about a half-an-hour left before visiting hours were over.
When Hosanna saw me, her beautiful and wrinkly face stretched out a large smile and a thousand notes of appreciation. Her joy was of the variety that I imagined Ed McMahon would see when he dropped off the Publisher’s Clearing House check, back in the day. People just don’t get this happy to see me, but Hosanna was letting everyone know – not only the lady in the bed next to her, but those in the beds in the rooms adjacent and across the hall from her. For a few moments I thought the nurses might come by to see what was going.
To this lady who was born in Syria, moved to Beirut, raised children, fled wars in the Middle East, survived various difficulties and arrived to a safe haven in America, getting some nerves, bones and muscles repaired was nothing to complain about. Her priest had come to visit her and was delivering the Blessed Sacrament – an opportunity to communicate on an intimate level with her Lord and God.
We talked the good part of the half hour I was with her. She was incredibly worried that I wasn’t comfortable, asking the nurse several times to adjust the pillows on my chair.
After I read the prayer of confession and offered her the Holy Communion she was relieved. She knew better days were ahead of her.
I could end this story by saying that she received a blessing, but that’s far from where this story ends. Sunday was a long day, filled with many challenges, but as I left the hospital room I realized I was touched and healed that night.
In life we are searching for meaning and purpose. As a priest, dealing with intangible realities such as faith, hope and love, you sometimes (more often than not for me) question the value of your work and ministry. Unlike other work, the ministry doesn’t provide immediate results – whether it’s praying for a sick person, someone in rehab, a divorced couple or working for justice in war-torn lands, on the streets of Los Angeles or in the Church itself. There are many times of doubt. Hosanna gave me a blessing. She filled my life with purpose and a renewed spirit.
If you look at your life, you will find that what you do and what you live are filled with blessings. Remember faith, hope and love may not provide immediate results, but that doesn’t discount their power. You just need to do what you do and leave the rest to God.
As I left her side I knew she was healed. There was no doubt in my mind, because I know there was no doubt in her mind. I was healed. There was no doubt in my mind and most probably she never imagined that her priest was hurting that night. That’s the power of a blessing and love. At the door way, I looked back and said, “I’ll see you Sunday in Church.”
She responded, “Of course, it’s my name day!”
This Sunday is Palm Sunday. Our Lenten Journey will ...

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Trust

Road to Healing – Lenten Journey 2014
Day 39:
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No doubt many of you have passed by an art gallery with a quick glance in and then continued to walk. Art either talks to you or it doesn’t. When I walk past a gallery, curiosity is the first lure that gets me to glance at the work in the window. And then, there’s a quick assessment. Do I like what I see or not? I’m a sucker for the surrealists, so even a small Salvador Dali in the corner will get me to walk through the door. But once I’m in I’m pretty quick on deciding whether I’m going to spend some time looking at the pieces or not. My attention span is pretty short in general and even shorter when I don’t get the artwork. I know this is an age issue. When you’re younger you can find more time to look, evaluate and even pretend you understand some of the stuff. But at this point in my life, I know what I like and if I don’t, I don’t mean any disrespect but I just walk away. I’m usually not critical of the artwork, realizing that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but on a few occasions I have mumbled under my breath a question or two about the validity of the work as “art.”
There is one gallery, though, that I have never been able to pass without stopping by for a look. I’d venture to say that many of you share my same experience. It happens every time I look out that large window that extends to the edge of my peripheral vision and captures the sunset. And though I’ve seen hundreds, perhaps thousands of sunsets, I never tire of casting a look and letting my imagination be pulled down the horizon as it marks the end of the day.
Sometimes I’m lucky, especially at the beach. Clouds will cover parts of the Sun, making for streamers that rise to the heavens. Other times it combines with the atmosphere to produce colors so unique and subtly different from the standard chart of colors. Have you ever noticed, you can never capture a sunset exactly on film or on canvas? You can come close to mimicking the colors, but never an exact copy. Each sunset is a beautiful combination of fire, clouds, atmosphere and the hand of God. Different shapes and diffusions decorate this artwork from the master of all eternity.
Each sunset points to the inevitable truth of our life, namely that time moves forward and we are called to value each moment in that movement. As the sun moves on its path below the horizon, we realize that the moment and the day will never come back. Enjoy the moment for what it is. And as your mind goes for the ride below the horizon your imagination is called upon to dream of tomorrow.
From the sunset we understand that the past is completely guaranteed. No question about it: it happened. The present is happening; you are given a chance to enjoy as brief as it may be. And the future? It’s completely and totally unknown. You can plan, work, sweat, toil and struggle for a bright future, but at some point you have to take it on faith that tomorrow will arrive and trust that you will be a part of it.
A healthy lifestyle has this basic trust component built into it. Without this trust, there is no life.
There is no guarantee that the Sun will rise tomorrow morning, but if each night you went to bed with the fear that it would not, you’d cease to function. Your time and energy would be consumed with unnecessary worry. Because the Sun has a strong track record, that is, every day of your life it has risen, and you have on good authority that it has done so for last several million years; you therefore assign a high level of trust to it. Not so with your illness though. Health – physical, emotional, mental – has let you down, so you’ve assigned a lower level of trustworthiness to it.
Today is the day to move trust in your health up a few notches. We trust that there will be new sunrise tomorrow morning and with that we put our head on the pillow. What does it take to believe the same about life? Part of the healing process is to believe and trust in yourself and the life that has been created around you. All around you is the fingerprint – the artwork – of God. Your only response to it is to trust that your life is adorned and decorated by God.
These past few weeks we have been on the Road to Healing and have tossed around many ideas. The lessons of each day are all predicated on trust. Just as a new sunrise tomorrow morning is unquestionable, so too the healthiness of your life must be trusted.
Here is a prayer of healing from the Armenian Church,
Lord our God, take away the pain and heal the sickness of your people. Grant them all complete health by the sign of your all-triumphant cross, by w...