Our Visiting Franciscan Priest . . .

I am pulling all of this from the top of my head . . . . or rather, the deep recesses of my memory, which, sadly, is not what it used to be and I am seriously considering investing in Brainiac games, Sudoku and such things . . . but I keep forgetting.

Father's homily. Yes. I have to say I was kicking myself for not going to the 9am Mass as well yesterday, even though I was going to be at the other chapel from 1pm to God knows how long for the Divine Mercy Mass. I really like going to Mass, which really makes me scratch my head because I wonder why I cannot seem to get to daily Mass . . . it never fails that I start off well and then LIFE gets in the way so to speak. Ah, well. The good Lord knows my heart . . . perhaps when I am in Hawaii and the kids are in school I can attend then. Blessed hope!

Father said he had no idea what he was going to say to us, as he regularly gives the 9am Mass at a rest home. Most of his parishioners are so old they are deaf, blind, infirm, short on short term memory and so on. He said that there was one lady who advised him to preach what he preached to them "this morning" so he followed up with this query: "What did you like about today's homily"? She said, "I don't remember, but it was so good!" And, I'm thinking: shite, I'm already that elderly forgetful dear! So. He then told us about an elderly lady who had wanted a priest to come out and give Eucharist to her home-bound daughter. The elderly lady was quite a joyful soul and brought him into her home and introduced him to her daughter. Her daughter was an invalid, could not speak, and only communicated by blinking once to mean yes, twice to mean no. In his prejudice, he believed she could not know who he was, what he did, and what he was saying. The mother asked her daughter, was she glad Father was here with them? The daughter blinked once. After a long while, he asked her if she was ready to receive Jesus and the mother said, "Oh, no, Father! She needs confession first! I'll just run along into the kitchen so she can confess." Bewildered, he watched her go and then returned his gaze to the girl. He began confession and the girl began to cry. Just tears streaming from her eyes. After a time, he said it was time for absolution and the mother cried out from the kitchen, "Oh, she's not done yet!" So, he sat and let her finish. She continued to cry for a time and he asked her, "Are you done?" She blinked once. Yes, she was done. He gave her absolution. He asked her if she was ready to receive Our Lord? She blinked and blinked and blinked excitedly!

Essentially, we all know the Lord when we see Him, when we experience Him. Don't we? We all ought to know when the Lord is calling our name.

The priest also taught us how to sign Jesus' name. Simply, put your hands out in front of you, place your middle finger of your right hand and poke it in the center of your left hand; then, poke the middle finger of your left hand into the palm of your right hand. That's His name in sign.

We all ought to know His name.

During Mass, when we were supposed to "grin and greet" (okay, it's the greeting before the Our Father, I just can't remember what it's called for St. Peter'sake!), he said we weren't going to do that. Instead, he asked us to pray for those whom we haven't spoke with or forgiven, who may not have forgiven us or do not speak to us, but mainly praying for those we have set aside. I liked that very much! We all have someone we marginalize.

Oh, and years ago he was a missionary in Africa. There was a six week language course. It wasn't very useful in the sense that it was more bring to the language person what you think the housekeeper/locals said to you and get it translated. No books, nothing formal. On the day they left, there was a nun from Ireland who complained that it was useless and a waste of time (that class) because she only learned how to say, "Christ have mercy, Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy."

The priest asked us what I ask you, "What more do you really need to say?" Indeed.