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Neither Man Nor Dog – A Tribute to Saint Francis (and the Wolf)

Today (October 4th) is the special day we set aside to honor Saint Francis. Several years ago I traveled to Assisi. I knelt and prayed at his tomb. I had felt his presence every moment of my pilgrimage in Assisi, but even more profoundly while at his burial place. I asked Francis to help me – to show me a way to honor and help our animal friends. I could’ve sworn I heard Francis say, “Let’s do this!” as I got up and set out to make a difference. Not long after my “visit” with Francis, my dog, Wili, was diagnosed with cancer, miraculously survived for 18 months rather than the 3 he was given, and Wili and I set out on our 5,000 mile Last Howlelujah Tour to share his story and raise funds for animals. After Wili died, I founded The Howlelujah Foundation, a non-profit in his honor, to help animals even more. I believe Saint Francis has been involved in all of these developments. Someday, I will travel back to Italy and walk the entire Way of Saint Francis – more than 500 kilometers from Florence to Rome – in tribute and memory of Wili. I know that I will spend an extra day in Gubbio – for it was through an encounter with a large and vicious wolf there that Francis showed us just how powerful God’s love is when we live it and share it without fear or reservation.

The Wolf of Gubbio was terrifying and terrorizing; the largest and fiercest that anyone had ever encountered. It began by attacking and eating the livestock on the outskirts of town – that was bad enough – but then the wolf shifted its appetites to the townsfolk. Everyone lived in paralyzing fear and no one seemed to be able to battle or subdue the wolf, regardless of the weapons at their sides. Enter Saint Francis!

Francis told the townspeople that he would venture into the countryside, find the wolf, and have a “come to Jesus” moment with him. Everyone feared for Francis’ safety. Francis approached the wolf, and sure enough, the wolf assumed attack posture, and started growling in a threatening manner. Francis spoke to the wolf and made the sign of the cross; a symbol of sacrificial love that never does harm, but only heals and makes whole. Francis called him “Brother Wolf” (the townspeople had called the wolf many names, but “Brother” had not been one of them). Hearing Francis refer to him as his “brother” caused the wolf to back down and pay attention. Francis did not let the wolf off the hook – he recounted his evil deeds, how he had devoured animals and even people. He did not gloss over the atrocities he had committed; he held him accountable. That’s where most of us would stop, but Francis kept going. He told the wolf that he understood why he had committed these violent acts – he had done so simply because he was hungry. A wolf’s gotta eat, right? So, Francis, seeking to get to the root cause of his sinful behavior, promised the wolf that if he would live in peace, the townspeople would feed him – the wolf would never go hungry again. He also promised him that unlike the present time in which the people and the dogs would chase him “neither man nor dog” would pursue him again. The wolf put his paw in Saint Francis palm and bowed down before him. Even without a leash, Francis led him into the town, where the townspeople audibly gasped in disbelief. The wolf became the town mascot and went door to door every day. Every person in town fed him, pet him, and allowed him to come inside their homes and play with their children. He became the most beloved creature ever known to Gubbio. A miracle had happened. It happened because Francis treated the wolf as a beloved creature of God, calling him brother. It happened because Francis held him accountable but also helped him understand the cause of his symptoms and promised to meet his needs so he would not have to engage in wrongdoing, murder and mayhem, and all could live in harmony.

I know what you’re thinking: “That’s a touching story, and we have much to learn from it, but it likely never happened.” Well, back in 1872, during extensive renovations of the Church of Saint Francis of Peace in Gubbio, the skeleton of a large wolf was discovered under a church wall. The skeleton was reburied under the altar of the church – where it belonged. Miracles happen when God’s saints seek to share God’s love with all God’s creatures. They happened with Saint Francis. They can still happen with us – if we are willing to love as God has loved us.

William Miller is an Episcopal priest, writer and animal advocate living near New Orleans. He is the author of “The Gospel According to Sam: Animal Stories for the Soul,” and “The Beer Drinker’s Guide to God: The Whole and Holy Truth about Lager, Loving and Living.” His latest book, “The Last Howlelujah: Tails from the Trail,” will be released in 2020.

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What I Did on My Summer Vacation

What I Did on My
Summer Vacation: Words, Dogs and Baseball

“Shall I compare thee
to a summer’s day? Summers lease hath too short a date.”
  Willie Shakespeare

There are several ways to look at my summer. One could say
that I worked all summer. Then again, one could say that I did not work a
single day this summer. Is doing what you love “work” or “play”?  Or why label it at all? If you are engaged in
doing what you believe God has called you to do, and what brings you joy, I’d
say every day is a holiday!  It’s summer
all year long.

But here’s what I learned, or at least, what I was reminded
of over the summer:

  1. Share what you know. I know something about the
    sacred island of Molokai. I know something about the powerful ministry of
    Father Damien and Mother Marianne. I have come to know some extraordinary people
    on the island who have many important values to convey regarding Hawaiian
    culture and spiritually – they are people who live aloha. So taking another
    group on the Molokai pilgrimage in June was truly special. It reminds me that
    pilgrimage- walking our prayers and traveling to sacred spaces, being open and
    grateful – matters. It enriches and inspires those who participate. Because I
    know this special place and these amazing people, it is one my life’s greatest
    blessings to share this unusual pilgrimage with others.
  2. Offer the gift you have been given. People tell
    me I’m a writer. Although I am my own worst critic, it has been a tremendous
    gift to be able to write books and share them with the world. I think I enjoy
    crafting stories and letting spiritual lessons emerge from them more than
    anything else in the world (that does not involve a cheese enchilada). I have a
    fairly unique style (spirituality with a sense of humor) so maybe what I have
    to say (write) matters – at least to some people. So I buckled down and wrote
    almost every day from July 3rd – August 29. I had a routine and I
    stuck with it – up every day at 4:30 a.m., walked dogs at 5:30, read and had
    prayers at 7:00, started writing at 8:00. Oh, and watched the Astros play
    baseball every night (thank you FUBO!) I have lots of book ideas, but the one
    that was most on my heart is a book about my beloved dog, Nawiliwili Nelson,
    and our Last Howlelujah Tour that we shared. That trip was likely the most
    amazing two and a half weeks of my life – so many memories made. I can’t wait
    to share this new book with you.
  3. Chillin’ is not a waste of time, especially
    among friends. One of the philosophers I read this summer was John Lubbock. He
    wrote:  “Rest is not idleness, and to lie
    sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer’s day, listening to the murmur
    of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a
    waste of time.”  Amen to that. Several
    times I had good friends stop by Covington on their summer travels. You better
    believe I took time to join them for dinner and a refreshing beverage. While in
    Mexico officiating a wedding and a beach-side Sunday service, some friends
    “kidnapped” me on Sunday afternoon and “made” me hang out with them at their
    hotel’s swim-up pool bar. A priest has gotta dot what a priest has gotta do.
    Productive? Depends on how you define that. I met some great people and had a
    wonderful afternoon of doing nothing. Then right at the end of my time “off”, I
    attended a concert at Red Rocks just outside of Denver. I had always wanted to
    go to a concert there and it was my reward to myself for finishing the new
    book. Plus – no humidity! The Sabbath principle matters – even God took a day
    off and rested.”
  4. I get by with a little help from my friends. I
    could not have taken time away from most of my church duties to focus on
    writing without my amazing clergy companion Morgan. She is awesome and I know
    my people are in great hands when I am away. I am so grateful that God sent her
    to us and we figured out a way to bring her onboard. What a blessing she has
    been!  I also could not have done the
    Chicago baseball pilgrimage without Herb Carver. He works tirelessly on details
    so that others can have a stress-free experience at some of the sacred sites of
    this particular sport – namely Wrigley Field. I met Herb in India and we have
    become great friends. I am so glad that God has brought him into my life. I
    can’t wait to see what future partnerships we share. As I wrote the new book,
    so many people I have encountered along the way made it in to various stories.
    Their stories have enriched my life and have made all the difference. I am
    grateful for each one of them. Of course, here I must also mention my best
    friends – my dogs Sinbad, Lili, Mano and Waylon. They are faithful companions
    who walked me each morning to make sure I got my exercise, and made sure I did
    not overeat this summer by volunteering to eat half of each of my meals. They
    were also of great comfort each evening on the couch, whether the Astros won or
    lost, regardless of how many times I yelled at my IPad. Take time for your
    friends. Tell them how much you appreciate them. Give thanks to God for
    bringing them into your life.

It was a great summer. I can’t wait to see
what God is gonna do this fall!

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When Life Goes Klunk

“I do not know just why He came to love me so. He looked beyond my fault and saw my need.”

I did a dog funeral yesterday. I’m a priest who loves and rescues dogs. And I am loved and rescued by those same dogs. So it’s not likely to be my last dog funeral. The dog’s name was Klunk. He was one of 200 dogs rescued by my local Humane Society during the Louisiana floods in 2016. He was only six months old at the time and was adopted immediately. But six months later Klunk was returned because he started fighting with other dogs. Unfortunately, fighting with other dogs would become a recurring theme for Klunk, as well as getting adopted and then getting returned. But the staff and volunteers of the Humane Society fell in love with him. They recognized that he had some behavior issues, and after one particular fight, he was given a “potentially aggressive permit” by Animal Control, but they never gave up on him. It seemed as though they would do anything and everything for Klunk. They took him to a mega-adoption event in Florida, where Klunk was the only dog among 27 dogs who did not get adopted. Then they went the extra mile and stepped up to pay for training for Klunk. When Klunk returned after another adoption didn’t work out, he got sick. But the staff nursed him back to health. Indeed, they loved him unconditionally. Eventually they thought they had found a perfect foster-based rescue out-of-state that included training. He had been doing well. But then Klunk got in a fight, and was immediately euthanized. The staff and volunteers who loved Klunk were completely devastated.

Klunk’s funeral was at noon yesterday in the blazing Louisiana sun with no shade. Those oppressive conditions didn’t stop those who loved him from coming to be there for him and with him one last time. He would be the first dog buried at a new pet cemetery the Humane Society is creating nearby. Virtually the entire staff and a host of volunteers showed up. It was obvious that Klunk meant a great deal to many. There were a lot of broken hearts and shattered spirits gathered together in that place. We read three passages from scripture including Psalm 104 which speaks of God’s love for all God’s critters: “In wisdom you have made them all. The earth is full of your creatures. When you open your hand, they are filled with good things. When you hide your face, they are dismayed; when you take away their breath, they die and return to their dust.” We also read Romans 8, a passage that reminds us that nothing can separate us from God’s love – not any of life’s greatest challenges, not fights with other dogs, and not even death. And finally, we read Jesus’ observation from the Gospel of Matthew, that when a small sparrow falls to the ground, God knows about it. And God cares about it. Because God loves every creature, even the smallest and the most challenging among us, God’s heart breaks when we are hurt or when we hurt others. I asked those gathered to share favorite memories and stories about Klunk and the emotion in their voices spoke of their deep affection for him. And then I quoted the old hymn “He Looked Beyond My Fault.” It seemed to express the sorrowful yet sacrificial sentiment that I was feeling as I came to know Klunk’s story: “Amazing grace shall always be my song of praise. For it was grace that brought my liberty. I do not know just why He came to love me so. He looked beyond my fault and saw my need. How marvelous the grace that caught my falling soul. God looked beyond my fault and saw my need.”

I had trouble getting the words out. I was moved so much by their love for Klunk. As one employee told me: “Behind all of Klunk’s challenges, we saw the sweet boy that he was.” I believe that the way they loved Klunk – to the very end – is the way that God loves each of us. We are given so many chances by God. God sees beyond our faults and knows our deepest needs. God sees our spirits, our potential, our beauty and our goodness. God will go the extra mile and will give everything so that we might be saved from our most dismal deeds. God will do anything and everything so that we might live more fully into his desires for each of us. An indestructible love like that seems rare in this world. But I witnessed it yesterday. And I experience it every time I fall in my own life. God shows up to rescue me. God never gives up on me. Thank you Klunk ,and thank you to all who loved Klunk, for reminding us just how amazing grace can be.

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I am Thirsty

I am Thirsty: A Meditation on Good Friday

There is a profound spiritual image that motivates me in my quest to quench the deepest of desires. Jesus, on the cross, just before he uttered his final words, “It is finished,” said something no one expected, and most of us still have no clue what to make of or what he meant. He said, “I am thirsty.” I am thirsty. What did he mean, in this most solemn, serious and sacrificial moment? I imagine that, like all expressions of truth in this life, there is more than one meaning. On one level, here was a dying man attempting to catch his breath, in deepest pain – he desperately needed something to drink. He was given a sponge dipped in inferior wine and maybe that helped him in some way – maybe it refreshed him and eased a bit of his pain. I hope so. Perhaps Jesus was simply reminding us of his humanity and his human needs. But was that all he meant? I don’t think so. I think Jesus in that moment in that expression was using a powerful image to describe his deepest longing and desire – a longing that offers a kind of life for which we can eventually look back and say, “By the grace of God and the help of my loved ones, somehow, I did it. Mission accomplished.” Indeed, it is finished. Although I may die – at least I know that I have fully lived. Like St. Irenaeus observed in a truth by which I try to live my life: “The glory of God is the human being fully alive.” Jesus thirsted for real authentic life – for communion, for connection, for relationship – for love. For God. For you. For me. Jesus thirsted for that which cannot be bottled or brewed or shaken or stirred, reminding us that there is a kind of thirst that cannot be quenched by anything other than the most powerful spirit, something more potent than any beverage on earth. May we thirst for the kind of life that he lived. May we thirst for the deepest connection with our God and with each other. May we thirst for the love that would sacrifice everything to break down every barrier and redeem every human being, bringing them fully alive in Christ’s love.

From an Introduction to my book, The Beer Drinker’s Guide to God

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How High Can You Count?

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Guess Who’s Got a Crush on You?

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OBARKTUARY FOR NAWILIWILI “WILI” NELSON

OBARKTUARY FOR NAWILIWILI “WILI” NELSON

February 14, 2006 (or 2005 but it had to be Valentine’s Day)—May 7th, 2018 (New Orleans 300th Birthday, henceforth known as the Big Cheesy, a reference to Wili’s favorite food)

Nawiliwili “Wili” Nelson was born on “The Garden Island,” the Hawaiian island of Kauai. Early on, he was found to be allergic to all vegetation and not fond of the ocean. He found it quite hilarious that he would be born on “The Garden Island,” given his allergies to gardens and fear of water. Not much is known about his first year other than that he emerged from his mother’s womb singing “Oh, What a Beautiful Morning” and asking, “Are you gonna eat that?” His favorite television show as a puppy was Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood. He particularly loved the songs “You Are My Friend: You Are Special”, and “Won’t You Be My Neighbor?” It is conjectured that he was raised to be a hunting dog, but he refused to hunt, hurt, corner, or inflict harm on any other living being, especially his animal friends. Thus, he was given his dishonorable discharge from his original family and was celebrated as a hero by all the pigs on Kauai. To honor his pig friends, he attempted to eat like one for the rest of his life.

His first recorded public appearance simply notes that the Kauai Humane Society found him wandering happily by the side of the road. It is thought that he was humming “On the Road Again” by an alternative country-western singer with pig tails whom he greatly resembled, and who resided in his dad’s home state of Texas. He was taken to the Kauai Humane Society where, because of his extraordinarily happy affect and perceived intelligence, he was kept long past the time when most animals are prematurely executed. Because of his white paws, he was named “Bugsy” and labeled an “Airedale Terrier.” Later, it would be revealed that, on the island of Kauai, any dog with facial hair was known as “Airedale.” There, all the members of ZZ Top would be considered Airedales, and Jesus is thought to be the “King of Terriers.”

His dad met him in July of 2006 while showing his good veterinary friend from Texas the Kauai Humane Society (known by all the animals on Kauai as a five-paw resort). The veterinary friend who examined Mr. “Bugsy” was also the veterinarian to Sam Houston, the acclaimed author of the howlingly hilarious book, The Gospel According to Sam. She proclaimed him not only physically healthy but also psychologically sound. “If he’s suffered any hardship or abuse, he sure doesn’t show it.” His soon-to-be -human was also impressed that he entertained himself for a long period of time with nothing more than a plastic bottle.

Wili’s dad moved to Kauai from Texas on February 14, 2006 to become a church pawstor (well, technically a Peskypalian priest). When he met “Bugsy,” it was love at first sight. He returned the next day and took him home to be his son. Struggling to come up with a dog’s name that would combine his Texas roots and his new Hawaiian home, he recalled that the harbor where the ships enter on Kauai is named the Nawiliwili Harbor. Furthermore, his dad had already discovered a favorite dive bar nearby—the Nawiliwili Tavern (it just so happened that the Tavern was owned by a pawrishioner, so the priest got a clergy discount). Combining his Texas roots and his new Hawaii home, he named this special critter “Nawiliwili Nelson!”

Wili was beloved on the island of Kauai, appearing in a number of Christmas ads for St. Michael and All Angels Episcopaw Church, sporting reindeer antlers and the engaging grin for which he became known throughout the world. He was also featured on several radio interviews inviting the community to celebrate St. Francis Day at his dad’s church. His favorite church services included the Animal Blessing as well any service followed by a wiener roast, chili cook-off, luau, or parish potluck. His early church antics are immortalized in print in the book written by his human: The Beer Drinker’s Guide to God. In a chapter titled “My Wili” one can read more about his early childhood development and his unanticipated visit to the second-grade classroom of the nearby Wilcox School. While some local citizens were not impressed with Wili’s appearance, he won “Outstanding Eyebrows on Island” a record-setting nine years in a row! Not to mention that he was voted “Mr. Congeniality” at every event he attended.

In September of 2015, Wili and his brother Sinbad moved with their dad to the charming town of Covington, Louisiana, just across Lake Pontchartrain from New Orleans. They flew over the Pacifistic Ocean in a special area for VIP passengers called “Cargo.” His dad was very nervous on the flight and kept sending chocolate-covered macadoodia nuts to the pilots with a note that said “Love, Wili”.  Wili never met a stranger—he quickly became friends with everyone in his neighborhood, dogs and humans alike. In Louisiana, Wili became well-known as a stuffed-alligator wrestling champion. In November of 2016, he went with his dad to New Orleans where he liked to go for walks at Palmer Park, watch the St. Charles streetcar go by, and eat at Dat Dog. One night, Wili stopped eating and moving, and was taken to a 24-hour veterinarian where he was diagnosed with a serious cancer. Two weeks later, the nice sturgeon removed a tubular from Wili’s bottom, plus a couple of limp nodes. He had to wear a very posh Elizabethan collar around his neck and was pronounced “terminal”—he was given as few as three months to live. It was during this period that he demanded to be known as Sir Williamwilliam Nelson.

Not knowing how long Wili would live, during the summer of 2017, Wili and his dad set off on a “Last Howlelujah Tour” to enjoy each other’s company, meet new friends, share Wili’s story, eat some barbecue, and raise money for animal friends. Wili’s dad reminded people on the Howlelujah Tour that the most important thing in life is not our careers, hobbies, material wealth, or even educations—it’s our relationships that matter the most—with our partners, parents, grandparents, children, grandchildren, friends, and pets. Wili reminded everyone how important it is to take time out of your schedule to celebrate your relationships and to sniff as many behinds as you can!  On the Howlelujah Tour, Wili and his dad traveled over 5,000 miles from New Orleans to Las Vegas and back. They met many wonderful people along the way in towns like Covington, Houston, Tomball, Bryan-College Station, Austin, Salado, Corsicana, Dallas, Tulsa, Oklahoma City, Lubbock, Cloudcroft, Alamogordo, Albuquerque, Flagstaff, Sedona, and finally, Las Vegas. Wili raised more than $14,000 for animal welfare organizations, and was featured in newspapers, magazines and on television. When he returned to Louisiana, he was greeted with “Welcome Home Wili” events at Christ Episcopal Church, Covington as well as a local bookstore, and later, he hosted the Annual Howloween Benefit for the St. Tammany Humane Society.

Wili would like to thank all the wonderful vetercanarians who have cared for him so well over the years, including Dr. Joanne Seki Woltman and Dr. Ranaella Steinberg on Kauai, Dr. Katie Maher in Covington, Doctors Elizabeth and David Kergosien and all the staff at Medvet, and Dr. Ashley Geoghegan and everyone at VetNaturally. In lieu of bones, everyone is encouraged to sniff your loved ones today, and send a donation to your favorite animal welfare organization, especially those Wili supported on his Last Howlelujah Tour, plus the Kauai Humane Society, and the St. Tammany Humane Society. Stay tuned for a possible Celebration of Wili’s life event, featuring barbecue and beer, and perhaps a new forthcoming book on the Last Howlelujah Tour. This obarktuary was edited for spillings and punkshashon by Wili—psssst—my dad is not a very good writer, so there was a lot to correct! Thank DOG there is WhyFI on the Rainbow Bridge!

 

 

 

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DO YOU COME IN NEED OR IN JUDGMENT? OR WHAT MR ROGERS LEARNED FROM A REALLY BAD SERMON

“God loves you just the way you are.”   Fred Rogers

Mr. Rogers had a disciplined morning routine. He would arise at 5:00 a.m. every day.  He would engage in private devotions – reading scripture, pondering spiritual writings such as those by his favorite, Henri Nouwen,  and offering prayer for a host of neighbors in need –  neighbors near and far. Then he would go for a swim.  One morning, after his swim, he came across a group of people arguing about salvation. I can say this about salvation – if you are arguing about it, you most likely do not understand it at all. One man in the group was particularly frustrated that the others would not acknowledge that his way of understanding salvation was the only way.  He knew Fred Rogers was a devout believer, an ordained Presbyterian minister, so he stopped him and exclaimed, “Fred, tell these people there is only one way to be saved!”  Fred Rogers paused, looked at each person individually, and said: “God loves you just the way you are.”

That is so Mr. Rogers of Mr. Rogers!  Was there ever a less judgmental person who walked among us in recent history? How did he get to be that way – so open, kind, affirming, and receptive?  As it turns out, there was an occasion in his life when he was quite judgmental. That moment of being less than merciful, accepting and tolerant was one that changed his life forever. In her lovely book The Simple Faith of Mr. Rogers, Amy Hollingsworth tells the story of a time when Fred Rogers was in seminary. In order to craft his homiletical skills, he would often visit churches to observe how quality preachers delivered their sermons.  One Sunday, he and some friends visited a well-known church in New England. As it turned out, there happened to be a guest preacher that Sunday. At first, hearing about the aged substitute orator made no difference – Fred had heard outstanding guest preachers many times before.

However, this man was less than outstanding. In fact, he was downright dreadful, in Fred’s mind. He failed to observe the most basic  homiletical rules and preaching commandments. Virtually everything he said went against everything Fred had learned about preaching in seminary.  Internally, Fred was incredulous that any preacher or any sermon could be that bad. When it finally ended, after what seemed like an eternity of torment, Fred turned to his friend beside him so they could commiserate over the pitiful pulpit effort they had endured. But before he could open his mouth with a barbed criticism, he noticed tears streaming down the cheeks of his friend. She turned to him and whispered, “He said exactly what I needed to hear.”

Fred pondered her reaction for a long time. Eventually, he came to understand that the chasm between their reactions had little to do with the sermon, and everything to do with each of their attitudes. He had come in judgment. But she had come in need. And because she recognized her need and was open enough to hear an inspired word, the Holy Spirit was able to translate sincerity into truth.  Her posture of receptivity made all the difference.

It always does. If we come to any sermon, any song, any opportunity, any relationship, any life experience in judgment, we have actually judged ourselves, and our own salvation suffers. But if we come in need, acknowledging how far short each of us falls, and how God can use any person and any moment to gift us with grace – we are likely to receive just what we need.

We live in an age where we are so quick to pass judgement on virtually everything. We cannot fathom any response to any word that we might not agree with or fully understand that is not an immediate refutation. What a difference it would make if we approached such moments in need rather than in judgment. We might hear exactly what we need to hear.  We might be changed in ways previously unimagined. And grace would abound more and more – in our minds, hearts, and world.

Do you come in need? Or in judgment?

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ALL IN!

ALL IN!

“But as for me and my family, we will serve the Lord!”    -Joshua 24:15

I know something about loyalty. I understand the concept of unwavering support through thick and thin. I know what commitment means over the long term and how costly it can be when we really mean it. You see, I’m a Houston Astros fan. We go way back, perhaps even back to 1888 when the Houston Buffaloes minor league team was formed. The most visionary early Rector of Trinity Church, the congregation I served in Houston from 1999-2006, was the Revered Robert E. Lee Craig, from Jackson Mississippi. Craig insisted the church literally move from a hidden dead-in street back in the early 1900s to “face the world more prominently.” He believed the church should be the most important thing, the most important community and cause in a city; therefore, it should be located somewhere folks would notice it, so that the faith community members would be reminded of its significance every time they worshiped. He knew it was a costly proposition, but it would be worth it. The congregation believed in his vision, and the church building was literally loaded onto a wagon and pulled by a team of mules to its present-day location, right on Main Street in the heart of the city of Houston. The Reverend Craig was a staunch Houston Buffaloes fan. He attended the games as often as he could, and I’ll bet the Buffaloes even made it into his sermons! I don’t know if he lived long enough to see the legendary Dizzy Dean pitch the Buffs all the way to a Texas League pennant in 1931, but if he did, I know he was cheering loudly!

My older brother still owns, and proudly displays, the only Houston Buffs pennant I have ever seen. As a young boy, he would take the bus to Buffs Stadium, and later take a different bus to Colt Stadium to watch the Colt 45s play.  Colt Stadium was a temporary home until the Astrodome opened in 1965; it was then that the team was renamed the Astros, paying homage to the NASA space center in Houston. I remember my first visit to the dome when I was five years old: I was in awe at the “8th Wonder of the World.” And I cheered for the Astros from my very first game! There were more losing seasons and “down years” than I can even remember, but I never wavered in my loyalty and in my support. I was at Turner Field in Atlanta, driving all night from Houston, on October 11th, 2004, when the Astros finally won a playoff series, beating the Braves 12-3 after Roy Oswalt pitched a gem. I was in St. Louis the next year when the Astros finally beat the Cardinals and went to the World Series. I was at the longest World Series game ever played on October 23rd, 2005, when the Chicago White Sox beat the Astros in the 14th inning on a home run by former Astro Geoff Blum. The game lasted 5 hours and 41 minutes. Not once did I consider leaving early. This year, I plan to be at games 6 and 7 in Los Angeles. It will cost me a fortune, but not as much as what I’ve spent to keep my dog, Wili, alive. When you love someone or something, and are committed to it, loyal forever, it really doesn’t matter what it costs.

The same is true of faith. Faith that really matters means loyalty and commitment, though thick and thin. There will be losing seasons and down times. There will be years when the stadium seems empty, and people change their allegiances. Even in faith communities you will sometimes be frustrated by management decisions and tempted to quit supporting your team. But in the end, being a true fan, as being a true person of faith, makes all the difference. Just ask a Cubs fan and all those who hung in there for a century! Last year, I celebrated as the Cubs won the World Series. I hope to celebrate this World Series as well, but this time with an Astros victory. But what happens if they lose?  In the words of the old spiritual, “Done Made My Vow!”  I’m a Houston Astros fan to the very end.

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BLANKET STATEMENT

“Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn and you will not be condemned. Give and it will be given to you.”    Jesus Christ

“Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.”     Mr. Rogers

“I had to tell 300 people that we were out of blankets. If you could have seen the look in their eyes…” My friend, Paige Pecore, texted me these sobering words as those displaced by the Hurricane Harvey floods in Houston began streaming into an overflowing makeshift shelter at the Convention Center. She and her husband, Doug, like so many Houstonians, were volunteering. Many of the folks showing up had nothing but the wet clothes on their backs. Although I had already donated to Episcopal Relief and Development and to the Red Cross, knowing that these organizations do good work, I found myself asking, “What can I do?”  If you find yourself asking that question in a crisis, know that you are likely not far from the heart of God.

Those desperately-needed blankets immediately became a powerful symbol guiding my own response to the devastation. A blanket is a tangible expression of concern; something that can provide warmth, protection, and even a small sense of security for folks who have lost everything.  Even though my church and a local construction company were already meeting behind-the-scenes to begin to coordinate a more massive and sustained relief effort, the blankets became my focus. My initial plan was to raid the local stores, rent a truck, and meet my friend, Doug, halfway. The roads were closed. Then I contacted a friend who has a plane. The airports were closed. Then I went online to see if the god of commerce, amazon.com, could help. Only a moron would even begin to imagine that if I ordered blankets on Amazon, they’d deliver them the next day to the Convention Center.  Apparently, fools like me are born more often than you think!  I even contacted the Cajun Navy, with visions of sailing down the I-10, stirring a pot of gumbo while sipping an Abita Amber, entering downtown Houston through Buffalo Bayou, then hoisting the blankets overboard and into the shelter. The Cajun Navy guy wished me well, and told me to contact the Cajun Submarine fleet, headed by Commander Al E. Gator. I’m still searching the swamp! Undeterred, I pressed on.

Then, a miracle happened. My friend and fellow priest, Scott Painter, who lives in the heart of Houston, happened to maneuver flooded streets and arrive at Costco just as it miraculously reopened. He texted photos of my blanket options and asked “How many do you want?” I ordered 100, sent him a check for $2,000, and bright and early the next morning, he delivered them to the new shelter opening at NRG Stadium, where 10,000 people were expected by the end of the day!  Take that, Admiral Gator!

In the grand scheme of relief efforts, in a swampy region spread out over a vast territory with 6 million inhabitants, 100 blankets delivered to one shelter probably won’t make much of a difference. But for the 100 people at the shelter who end up with one, it might make some difference. And you and I can each make some difference. Together, we can make a big difference.

In every crisis, you will discover that there will be folks who will sit back and do nothing, thinking their efforts won’t make much difference. Worse, there will be others who will expend precious energy criticizing others.  Dear humans: NEWSFLASH! In a crisis–criticism and condemnation, second-guessing and judging–not helpful in the least. In fact, they can discourage those who are actually doing good to keep doing good. If you have enough time and energy to second-guess elected officials because of their decisions, criticize public figures because you are not satisfied with their efforts, or castigate the work of relief organizations because of their imperfections, you are part of the problem and not part of the solution. Piling on wet blankets of negativity will not help one single person whose life has been disrupted by a flood.

I have a good friend who is a single mom with two kids. They live simply in an apartment. She works for the Red Cross and she is passionately committed to her work and to improving every day. She works overtime every week, with pay that is not competitive.  During many crises she is away from her own children late into the night as she provides comfort and support for others. I watched in disbelief as she posted ways to help during Hurricane Harvey on social media, only to be barraged by insults and complaints. One man, who looks like he hasn’t missed too many meals, posted photos of chicken nuggets that he claimed were Red Cross meals during a recent flood. Turned out, snacks are provided as soon as possible, even before the Red Cross caterers arrive. I watched my friend expend her valuable and positive energy addressing very patiently and thoughtfully Mr. Nugget’s criticisms. How much more helpful it would have been had my friend been able to focus on what really matters – helping people.  And just think if Mr. Nugget had used his energy to get trained as a volunteer, or to purchase food or blankets. Or if he’d just shut up. The world would be a much better place.

Jesus said it best: Do not judge or condemn. Do not criticize or second-guess. Now is definitely not the time.  Give and it will always be given back to you. Look for the helpers. Be one, too. It’s our only hope.

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