Who Ushered the Snakes out of Ireland?

Surely He Ushered the Snakes out of Ireland...  

It was hours before dawn when our Chocolate Lab pup became insistent about her "need to heed" the call of nature. The exact hour of this awakening is what the military refers to as “zero-dark-thirty”. There is no reasoning or arguing with man's best friend at that hour of the morning when one is confronted with a cold wet nose persistently interrupting your dreams. A cell phone is grabbed from the night stand, not for making calls or sending text messages... but to light the path through the pitch-black bedroom to prevent toes from being stubbed. Stubbing any of your toes at that hour would surely start your day “on the wrong foot”. One must move swiftly and surefooted through the dark... because the puppy has to “go”.

The bedroom door is swung open and the faithful companion hurriedly leads the way down the stairs through the dining room and the kitchen. The Promised Land (for dogs) lies just beyond the kitchen door. Rushing towards the back door which was soon to become the portal to relief, we both caught a glimpse of the family cat sitting in the kitchen, staring intently at the space between the refrigerator and the wall.  We have seen this posture before. More than likely our cat was  stalking a mouse. One could assume that the calico was looking to have a little fun with a mouse before breakfast, though it had been months since there had been evidence of any such critters in this hundred-year-old house. That critter-free phenomenon could probably be attributed to having an accomplished mouser in the house.  No time right now to stop and investigate what the cat is presently staring down... must first assure that my dog makes it to her Promised Land.

Standing outside on that brisk March morning here in the Midwest, one was quickly reminded of the fact that slippers were not donned before rushing outside. Body weight shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another ...impatiently waiting for the puppy to finish her business so we could head back to the warm confines of my bedroom. It was one of those frosty March mornings when you could see the dog’s breath steaming from her nostrils. Standing in the back yard, drinking in the light of the seldom-seen stars, it dawned on me that today we were to celebrate the Great Feast of St. Patrick with a party in our home.

Soon the house would be filled with the aroma of cabbage and corned beef in preparation for the annual dinner we share with family and friends. Barefoot and clad only in my dark green bathrobe seemed somewhat fitting, yet amusing, on this auspicious day.

As the dog played "ring around the rosy" widening the path encircling the ginkgo in the backyard, thoughts of yesterday's wonderful fishing trip came to mind. Even though the calendar had not yet proclaimed the beginning of Spring, it was decided that it was indeed the perfect time for a fishing trip. So confident that this was going to be “the” day to fill the freezer with fish, two dozen night crawlers were purchased before heading to what was thought to be a promising fishing hole.  Those worms looked so fat and juicy... one wonders if any fish on the earth could resist.  

Yesterday turned out to be perfect in every way for fishing .. but not for catching.  Of those two dozen crawlers, twenty-one (21) beautiful worms managed to escape from becoming lunch for bluegills, crappies, bass... or anything. Only three of these wriggling creatures ended their lives drowning while seated on a hook and suffering multiple cases of whiplash as they were repeatedly flung across different bodies of water. All in all, the day could be considered a success because it was a wonderful  opportunity to commune with God and His creation.

Among the great mysteries of the world being pondered yesterday while waiting for the first nibble of a worm was whether or not St. Patrick knew anything about fishing. We *do* know that  St. Patrick used the shamrock to explain the Most Holy Trinity in converting the heathens of that country to Christianity. Additionally, we have also heard stories how the saint drove the snakes out of the Emerald Isle ...but the more rational among us know that the theme of Patrick driving the snakes off the island probably just symbolizes the act of the saint forcing the devil and his legions out of the country. Or... could it really be true?  Could good ole Ireland really have been plagued with snakes and all other kinds of vipers before Patrick landed on the scene?

It was images of those legendary snakes that came to mind while walking up the steep trail from the isolated fishing lake back to the vehicle.  Climbing one of the highest hills in Southern Ohio, my eyes continually surveyed the trail ahead for evidence of any snakes that might be basking in the sun. The steep slopes of Croagh Patrick (Mount St. Patrick) in County Mayo Ireland were remembered with each step up the treacherous incline.  Each year a multitude of the faithful manage to climb that mountain, ...barefoot, as a sort of self-imposed penance.  Folks, ...one could just as easily (and a lot more cheaply) do their penance in the southern hills of Ohio... but it is strongly suggested that you keep your feet inside your shoes while walking in our hills.

One thing seems pretty certain and that is there were probably no snakes brave enough to confront the godly saint as he climbed Croagh Patrick.  Had a viper dared stick out its tongue to this man of god, it would have surely met its fate at the hand of Patrick's Irish walking stick ...or maybe his shillelagh.  With that in mind, a walking stick was quickly chosen for the rest of the journey up this (obviously) snake-infested trail. Funny how all of that comes to mind on a simple fishing trip the day before we were to celebrate this Great Saint's Feast Day.

So… if the holy man potentially ushered all of the snakes off the island… where in the world did they all go? Therein lies a great mystery. Inquiring minds want to know! Wonder if these exiled serpents could have joined forces with others here in the States? Having reached our sunny shores… could some have managed to wiggle themselves all the way to southern Ohio or even to my hometown? Yes, inquiring minds need to know! Surely, their current whereabouts would make for a fine tale being spun in neighborhood pubs.

Other than using the shamrock as his teaching tool, and seeing evidence of the great conversions to Christianity at his hands ...and the tales of him ushering all of the snakes off of the Emerald Isle, little else is known about this holy bishop. We know that the Great Saint lived and ministered on an island nation for most of his career and yet we celebrate his Feast Day each year with corned beef.  To be sure... St. Paddy never enjoyed a meal of corned beef and cabbage. More than likely his dinners would have been comprised of potatoes and fish.  After all, St. Patrick lived on an island... surrounded by water … and fish.

Surely, Patrick dined on the flesh of fish more than a few times, and following the call from Jesus, was probably both a fisher of men and a fisher of the kind that lives in the water (...an angler).  Wondering about the kind of bait ole St. Pat might have used to catch his dinner. If Paddy didn’t use those outcast snakes for bait, could he have used worms as luscious as these night-crawlers appear? Just wondering.... Would it be wrong to beg for the Great Saint's intercession for a selfish desire to catch just a fish or two on this fine day? No begging, ...no intercession, …no fish! Maybe that is just coincidence ...but next time...!

Nevertheless, that day was to be considered a complete success. Even without netting one meager fish, the opportunity was presented to grow closer to God and His creation. "God is good … All the Time!" One day after this religious experience and we were going to be celebrating the Great Saint's Feast Day with something other than fish. ...It is a good thing that this generation likes corned beef and cabbage.

Coming back in the house just as fast as she went out, our puppy bolted up the stairs to the Master bedroom. Both of  us had every intention of trying to catch a few more "Zzzzs" before officially starting the day. Following my dog a little more slowly, my eyes again focused on the cat that was now pawing at something in that dark area between the wall and the refrigerator.  Rather than have my wife be confronted by a furry mouse sometime as she prepared the food for the Great Feast, it was decided that *this* needed immediate attention. A broom was grabbed to be used either as a weapon ...or as a shield. Yes, it would have been comforting to me to have my watchdog by my side just in case the critter behind the refrigerator slipped through the paws of the cat or managed to avoid the swat of the broom… but puppy had long-ago raced up the stairs and presumably was already dreaming of chasing rabbits. Well...we would have to meet the beast without the aid of "ole faithful companion".

As my flashlight tried to illuminate the dark recesses of the kitchen, the cat edged forward, reaching her paw under the refrigerator. The cat appeared to have caught a mouse’s tail in her claws ...but when she slowly pulled it towards her... it became obvious that it was not a mouse but one of the longest worms ever seen.  The worm had stretched itself to the maximum length ...probably holding on for dear life, hoping to avoid becoming the cat’s breakfast. "No cat of mine is going to have a case of the worms!" The cat was obviously irritated when the huge worm was extricated from its claws and carried outside to be gently placed inside the flower garden.

Dusting off my hands upon re-entering the house, another huge worm was immediately discovered slithering toward the carpet of the living room.  So, another one was quickly ushered outside to a place much more appropriate for worms. Could there be more? Where in the world are these creatures coming from?  Imagine my surprise to see the better half of a worm escaping from the bottom of the refrigerator door. In a flash... the events of last night came to mind.  Upon returning from my fish-less fishing trip, the bait container with the twenty-one (21) surviving worms had been deposited for safe keeping (...and another day) in the refrigerator. When the refrigerator doors were swung open, *all* became apparent.  The lid for the bait container had opened ...just enough for the squirmy things to begin their great escape. Several worms were already heading down towards the vegetable crisper and the meat drawer (...one almost made it) ...but all of those were also scooped-up and hastily escorted to the flower garden.

It is still hours before dawn and my work had *just* begun. The bait container with what looked to be about a dozen remaining night-crawlers was quickly taken outside and ceremoniously dumped  in the garden with all of the other worms already placed there.  Just as the container was emptied it onto the ground, it dawned on me that a smarter person would have taken the time to count all of the worms to make sure that all twenty-one (21) were “present and accounted for”. Too late! Lost opportunity!  In the darkness one could see that the others had already started to scatter. Did all of them make it out of the house and into the garden?

Without that certain knowledge meant that a thorough cleaning of the inside and outside of the refrigerator (and more) was required... before the first guest arrives.  This entailed moving every movable appliance and all of the furniture in both the kitchen and the living room. Each square inch of floor and walls had to be inspected... (sometimes with the aid of a flashlight) ...just in case. Throughout this cleaning, the questions kept coming, “Should this incident be shared with my spouse as a humorous little story?” Also, “Is it better to suffer from a sin of omission or suffer from the truth being told before the guests arrive?” Would my beloved have a good laugh with me? The answers for those and other questions would have to wait! More cleaning had to be done... and quickly. Alas, the cleaning and final inspection was completed just before my beloved entered the room and poured herself a cup of coffee.  “It’s going to be a busy day, ...so much cooking and cleaning to do before the first guest arrives.”  ...If she only knew! From the moment the first guest arrived until the last one left, my eyes were nervously scanning each guests to see if any of my slimy little critters were going to introduce themselves to our guests.

MORAL OF THE STORY: ‘Tis better to leave any unused worms at the fishing hole for benefit of fish rather than risk ruining your day having to wonder if a worm is going to suddenly slither onto  a guest’s plate.  

After reading this... some may believe that 'tis nothing more than a wee bit of blarney.  More charitable folks will assume 'tis nothing more than an attempt to spin an Irish yarn ...but as St. Patrick is my witness... if only it wasn't true! 

(For obvious reasons, this story could not be told before this. One had to be absolutely certain that all twenty-one (21) worms made it out of the house and into the garden ...and so sufficient time *had* to pass.)



It's A Wonderful Life

Reflection on the life of John E. Jones

7/29/1928 - 01/21/2011

 

There may be a few of you here today that can remember going to the picture show to see Jimmy Stewart and Donna Reed grace the silver screen in the Frank Capra production of “It's A Wonderful Life”. If you happened to miss the first release of that picture back in 1946 maybe you had a chance to see it a time or two since then.. either in the black and white or the colorized version. ...Whether on the big screen, the little screen, or even on your PC monitor there have been plenty of opportunities to see and enjoy this movie ...and to take-in its very strong, faith-filled message.

Most of you are familiar with the story line... Once upon a time there was a man named George Bailey who was much-loved, much-respected in the tiny town named Bedford Falls. Though no one would consider George Bailey to have been a prosperous man... you could see that he was indeed rich in so many ways. George's wealth was based on the fact that he had a caring wife whom he dearly loved. Then there was the rest of the family (the children... and yes, even Uncle Billy). George loved each of them... and they loved him deeply in return. Besides that... there were all of George's friends. Almost everyone in town loved George Bailey... for the good friend that he was. Life was good!

One day, some horrible trouble struck ole George Bailey and suddenly he thought his life was worthless. Forgetting all that he had, George became seriously despondent. Luckily, George's family and friends immediately sensed George's need for help so they quickly stormed Heaven with prayers. The prayers from loving, faith-filled family and friends soon reached Heaven and, in turn, a guardian angel was sent to assist George. When George Bailey cried out that it would have been better if he had never been born, Clarence,the angel-in-training, began to show him what life on earth would have been like if George Bailey had never been born.

After examining his life with the guidance of the angel and having seen what would *not* have ever been, George Bailey discovered that this life of his did make a difference to lots of people. George's existence in that small corner of the world had an unbelievable impact on those around him and he realized that God had truly graced him.

Filled with this knowledge, George resolved to face head-on the adversity that had just recently seemed to strip-all meaning from his life. In the end, George triumphed because he was strengthened by the strong love of his wife, family and friends. As Clarence reminded him, “no man is a failure who has friends”. When times were tough, his family & friends stormed Heaven with prayers for his well-being. When George received the power of prayer he could exclaim that his was “a Wonderful Life”!

Whether we knew this man as friend, or husband, or dad, or Papa or Uncle or Cousin ...or even as General ...John E. Jones had a lot in common with George Bailey... and he knew it. Through the years and probably with Heaven's help, John came to appreciate the breadth and depth of his Wonderful Life.

One of the terms of endearment assigned to John Jones is ...“the General”. Now, when most of us picture a General ...we see someone with lots of shiny medals on their chest. For a military general, these medals might designate significant accomplishments or victories. For “our” general, his medals depicted his true treasurers... his loves; that is, his wife, his children, his grandchildren, great-grandchildren and the rest of the family ...as well as all of his dear, dear friends.

First of all... John often bragged (...to anyone who would listen) about how lucky he was to be married to the same loving woman for 60 years. His love for Helen seemed to grow with each passing year. In fact, John's last spoken words were about his undying love for his wife. God truly had graced John with a perfect “soul-mate”. John was truly blessed!

Adorning his chest ...and close to his heart ...are also the shiny medals depicting the rest of John's family. This includes his sons, his daughters, grandchildren, great grandchildren, nieces, nephews, cousins and brothers. The family reunions he hosted for this family over the years were memorable. John knew how to get us together and then throw a party. As you know, some folks have what they call “brag books” to show-off photos their kids, their kids' kids and their kids kids kids. John didn't need a “brag book” he wore these medals on his chest, close to his heart. At a “drop of the hat” John's eyes would light up and he would tell you stories about each of them. He would “puff-out his chest in pride” as John would do a little bragging about each of them.

This love was a two way street. The love that John gave was like “throwing bread upon the water” since it came back a hundred-fold. John's granddaughter Chrissy asked me to share with you a poem about her grandfather. This touching poem seems fitting and echoes the thoughts and love of grandchildren for their “Papa”.

TOGETHER, YET APART

Its got harder and harder
since the day you went away
but still people keep telling me
...everything shall be okay

I know deep inside
that it’s better up there
but we're not together
which makes it unfair 

 

Seems like yesterday
that we were together
then I opened my eyes
to realize “gone” means ...forever

It hurts and it aches
...its slicing my heart
for the rest of my life
we shall be apart

I’m waiting for the future
hoping to see
that when I die
You'll open up those gates for me

Having a Papa
with a heart made of gold
is my favorite treasure
which will never grow old

Family reunions
will never be the same
cause you’re not there with us
to be stronger I aim

Your favorite chair
is empty and cold
you need to come home
We need someone to hold

Now that you're gone
I have no-one to run to
Am I doing this right?
...please send me a clue

I don’t understand
the meaning of life
I can’t get this right
Keep getting in strife

Do you Know
How much we all love you?
Do you realize
How much I trust You?

You're Officially gone
But forever in my heart
You and me Papa
...together, yet apart

John Jones, Martha Jones, Helen Jones

Though John had a fairly large extended family ...and plenty of love to keep him warm, God also blessed John with many, many fine friends. These friends were also held close to John's heart and oftentimes he would brag about his friends. Good friends, faithful friends. Some of these friends were even made to feel as part of the family. Earlier you heard how John loved to throw a party for his family at reunions and anniversaries. Well... you should have witnessed the parties that he would throw for himself on his birthday each year. It was a great honor to even be invited to one of these parties.. even if he *did* throw it for himself. ...Good friends... faithful friends who loved him in return.

John had it pretty good (and he knew it) surrounded by a loving wife, a beautiful family and a flock of faithful friends. His truly was ...a Wonderful Life. He had been blessed. Today we celebrate *that* wonderful life (and rightly so)...but as faith-filled people we are called to realize that there is so much more that is prepared for us in the life to come. Our Lord speaks to us today through the Gospel of St. John when He assures us that something greater than this awaits us when He says, “In my Father's house there are many dwelling places. If there were not, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you?” Friends, we *have* the blessed assurance that there is an EVEN MORE Wonderful Life waiting for us.

Saint Paul continues with this message in the second chapter of his First Letter to the Corinthians when he writes, “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined the things that God has prepared for those who love Him." Quite frankly, quite simply we know that there is so much more ...even more beautiful and even more wonder-filled waiting for us in our eternal life to come. In *that* Wonderful Life, we trust that John will soon be reunited with his loving family and dearly-departed friends that went ahead of him.

All of this happiness and love that John enjoyed in *this* life, of course, will be nothing more than a “tiny drop in the ocean” compared to the true joy that awaits John and the rest of us in the promised New Life. *This* is our hope ...this is our prayer ...for John ...and for one another. Let us console another with these words of faith.

♪♫♪“...Until We Meet Again!”♫♪♫

Vaya con Dios!

Ruby the Wonder Dog

Ruby the Wonder Dog (our Chocolate Lab) is trained to gently wake up our son Tim every morning and *persuade* him to get out of bed. If gentle persuasion fails to move our "boy", Ruby quickly turns up the pressure and, in short order, manages to get Tim to put his feet on the floor. The ritual always begins with kisses and nuzzling ...but usually ends with friendly growling and playful nips, escalating in intensity ...until the desired result is achieved. Like a canine with OCD (Obsessive Canine Disorder), our beloved watchdog anxiously waits each morning for the command from her master to "...Wake Tim!!!".

Since Ruby seems to have issues distinguishing non-work days from work days, this dog goes stir-crazy on weekends and holidays as if to ask, "Did you *forget* to tell me to wake Tim?" Our lab will stand ready at the base of the stairs each morning, waiting for the special command to be issued. Whenever those words do not immediately come, this dog will try to get her master's attention by quickly looking at me and then looking up the stairs towards Tim's room and then looking back to me... waiting for “the word”. Truly, this animal is a “creature of habit”. On rare occasions when Tim is urged to “rise and shine” while Ruby is still outside for her morning constitutional ...and has not yet had a chance to perform her daily duty, Tim will react by advising, “Call Ruby ...and have *her* wake me up!” 

...Talk about “creature of habit!”.

This video of faithful dog versus stubborn sleeper has been on the internet for quite some time and one would have thought that by now the ritual would have become old hat for Ruby or Tim ...but the tradition continues.  In fact, now Ruby approaches her master after Tim is out of bed for a "pat on the head" for a job obviously well done. 

Some people like to start their day with a cup of steaming, aromatic coffee... others prefer to greet the day by having their face washed with doggy kisses.
...My personal preference is coffee!

(Please click the PLAY button on the video below to see "Ruby the Wonder Dog" in action.  ...You may want to push the PAUSE button on the IPOD in the right column before viewing this video).

The Bells of St. Lads ring again

The Bells of St. Lads are ringing again

Sadly, the bells of St. Ladislas Catholic Church in Columbus, Ohio had been silent for several years. After more than fifty years of calling folks to prayer, ...as well as announcing the hours of the day to the neighborhood from dawn till dark... the bells just wore out ... probably from sheer exhaustion. The recently-retired pastor of St. Ladislas (Fr. John Stattmiller) had obviously set a new record for officiating at the most funerals over the past several years.  So, the bells of St. Lads had quite a workout over the last dozen years or so ...thanks to lots of new members in the Communion of Saints and one very dedicated priest. 
The absence of the sound of these bells was  sorely felt..., not only by the parishioners of St. Lads ...but also by many  in the neighborhood who appreciated this witness of the faith to this part of the city. Unfortunately, the possibility  of immediately fixing or replacing these bells could not be a high priority item for the parish when there were so many other economic challenges to be addressed. Thankfully, a generous benefactor recently came forward with the remaining funds (originally raised during the parish's Centennial celebration in 2008) necessary to bring the bells back to St. Lads and the South Side of Columbus. 

Absence must truly make the heart grow fonder ...since the sound of the bells never sounded clearer or sweeter. The pealing of church bells can evoke precious memories. One remembers the sound of church bells announcing that a couple had been joined together through the Sacrament of Matrimony. Also brought to mind, are those days when the bells rang out notes of farewell ...or, better yet... “till we meet again” after we celebrated the Mass of Resurrection for one of the faithfully departed. In days before cellphones, the bells also served as a makeshift alarm clock to advise the young folks when it was time to head home for dinner and homework.

In days of old... most church bells operated without electrical assistance of any kind. The bells were rung by young altar servers who would undergo rigorous training, memorizing paragraph after paragraph of prayers in Latin and learning the exact timing of each reverential gesture of the Mass ...just to have the honor of assisting at Mass *and* to have the privilege of ringing the church bells. Though not an easy task for someone who weighed far less than a hundred pounds in those days... it was a job that was sheer joy. To operate those bells, the youngster would have to have to jump as high as he could and with his  "oh, too-small hands” ...grab the thick, knotted rope and yank it and his body back down toward the ground. When done properly, the bells rewarded the bell ringer with a ride of a lifetime as he sailed up … up … up towards the rafters of the belfry. One can only imagine the thoughts of the altar boy as he repeatedly soared in the air and tried to make these bells heard in the next county. Of course,  there was not as much joy in the task when these same church bells had to be slowly tolled at  the end of a funeral Mass.  Besides the somber tolling at funerals there was the standard version of bell-ringing reserved to call people to daily Mass and to other key times when the community was called to prayer.  A third variation of the bell-ringing theme  was for celebrating at Christmas, at Easter ...and whenever there was a wedding. Those events produced more fun for the altar boy that any "E ticket" ride at Disneyland. Though most altar servers today never have the opportunity to take a running leap to clutch the church bell rope... the ringing of church bells still plays a important role in  solidifying the presence of the church in the neighborhood.  

Without the bells, many parishioners began questioning the future of their church building. Our minds know that "church" is not just a building  but rather "church" equates to people gathered together to praise and worship  God. Nevertheless hearts still identify with and have strong attachments to the building where we introduced our newborns to our extended family, said our final farewells to family and friends, joined in the ceremonies of many weddings as well as weekly gatherings as a faith community to offer our praise and worship to God. Without the beloved church bells proudly witnessing to the presence of the building and the faith community in this part of the world... it seemed for many that symbolically the lights had been turned off ...or at least dimmed. Those fears of a possible closure of the parish in the near future have now been significantly diminished with the sounds of the bells of St. Lads ringing again.

The video clip (shown below) captures the ringing of the new bells at St. Lads during the noon hour "Angelus”. This call-to-prayer bell-event also occurs at 6:00 p.m. each day. Here are the words to the "Angelus" prayer as it is said during this melody of the bells:

V. The Angel of the Lord declared to Mary:

R. And she conceived of the Holy Spirit.

V. Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.

R. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

V. Behold the handmaid of the Lord:

R. Be it done unto me according to Thy word.

ALL:  Hail Mary . . .

V. And the Word was made Flesh:

R. And dwelt among us.

ALL: Hail Mary . . .

V. Pray for us, O Holy Mother of God,

R. that we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.

V. Let us pray: 
ALL:  Pour forth, we beseech Thee, O Lord, Thy grace into our hearts; that we, to whom the incarnation of Christ, Thy Son, was made known by the message of an angel, may by His Passion and Cross be brought to the glory of His Resurrection, through the same Christ Our Lord. Amen.

 

So, the bells of St. Lads are now back ...and once again signaling to the neighborhood, the city and the world that our parish, our church is still here in Columbus serving our neighbor and our God.

Lunch time stroll from City Hall to Confluence and back

Testing the EasyTrail for Droid App and trying to incorporate it into the blog.  It may be necessary to click on the title above to link to the interactive map.

I Will Keep Faith - Always Faithful

I WILL KEEP FAITH 
~ ALWAYS FAITHFUL
 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Faith is putting all your eggs in God’s basket, 

then counting your blessings before they hatch.”
~ Ramona C. Carroll

It has recently become a fairly regular nightly ritual for me to prepare for sleep by tuning into one of the various old time radio programs (podcasts) that have been previously downloaded onto my IPOD. Each night, a different podcast (episodes of Gunsmoke, Fibber McGee and Molly , Dragnet, Superman or The Lone Ranger) is softly played through a pillow speaker so as to help drown-out the noises of the urban neighborhood and the snoring of a Chocolate Lab. Most of the podcasts of the old radio programs are less than than a half hour in duration but it should be acknowledged that the great majority of the time this tired mind has drifted off to “Sleepy Town” before the selected radio program actually reaches its mid-way point.

A couple of nights ago it was decided to treat myself to a re-presentation of one of downloaded episodes from “The Lone Ranger” radio program. In retrospect, this particular choice might not have been the best for encouraging sleep since it is one of the more action-packed series ...and sleep can be suddenly interrupted by the sound of gunfire, even if the sound is only coming through the pillow speakers. Anyway, my eyes were closing and my brain was shifted into neutral... anticipating sleep in short order.

Cue the music: ♪ ♫ ♪“The William Tell Overture♫ ♫ ♪”.

Narrator speaks: “Return with us now to those thrilling days of yesteryear! From out of the past come the thundering hoof-beats of the great horse Silver! The Lone Ranger rides again! ...A fiery horse with the speed of light, a cloud of dust and a hearty `Hi Yo Silver!'"

Assuming that the rest of the episode would be less-stimulating that the introduction, the program was allowed to continue. My eyelids started to get heavy again and my breathing became more rhythmical, and the words of the radio announcer started to morph into something that sounded somewhat similar to Charley Brown's teacher saying, “Wah, Wah, ...Wah, wah, wah, wah... Blah, Blah, Blah ...Yada, Yada,Yada". The body was quickly going deeper and deeper asleep until (suddenly) the ears tuned-into the voice of a young actor slowly uttering the Latin phrase, “Servabo Fidem”. That might not have grabbed every listener's attention ...but it got this Latin student's to thinking.

The radio play personality was none other than young Dan Reid, nephew to the Lone Ranger. He was starring in this particular episode of “The Lone Ranger”. This episode was titled “The Crested Ring”. At this point in the program, Dan Reid was admiring the ornate ring of a fellow passenger on the stagecoach. He was especially taken by the cryptic writing on the ring. The readers now might be pondering the phrase, “Servabo Fidem” and either ...wishes that they had chosen Latin in high school as their foreign language ...or regrets that they had not paid better attention in their first year Latin class ... or simply hopes that someone would be merciful and shed some light by providing a quick translation of this phrase. In short order it was explained to Dan (and the radio audience) that “Servabo Fidem” is a Latin motto which means, “I Will Keep Faith”. This is not the proper forum to discuss how this particular motto is incorporated into this specific story ...but let's just say that this expression was a key element in this modern day morality play.

Anyone growing up in the household of a U.S. Marine is usually more than a little familiar with the USMC motto “Semper Fidelis”. Again, if you had paid attention in Latin class, you would know that these two simple words translates as “Always Faithful”. Translation might be too easy since to “know” the deep, rich meaning of these two phrases, “Servabo Fidem” and “Semper Fidelis” and (“I Will Keep Faith” and “Always Faithful”) should require some further meditation.

In my California college days...especially during the “Summer of Love”, we often exchanged the salutation “Keep the Faith, Baby” with one another whenever we parted company. Quite possibly, we did not fully understand the mandate that we frequently gave to one another.

Each one of us is encouraged to be a person of faith and to remain faithful. God has given us every reason to have faith ... and to “keep the faith” (always) but our human nature tends to have us trust ourselves more than the Almighty. We are called to faithfulness, ...no matter the circumstances.

It does not take a Rhodes Scholar to know that it is not too difficult to maintain your faith when all is well with you and the world. The challenge of retaining your faith comes as you encounter bumps and snags along life's way.

Some of you may remember the television program in the 80's known as M*A*S*H*. In the episode titled “A Holy Mess”, Father Mulcahy opined, “A faith of convenience is a hollow faith.”

A popular axiom that floats around in times of war is, “There are no atheists in foxholes." The theory is that all will embrace God and believe in Him given the right circumstances.  It should be unequivocally asserted that this (unfortunately) is not always true.  Some, even when faced with imminent disaster (and possibly death), lose all hope and thus too... any faith that they may have had in more convenient circumstances.

Some folks, facing any given crisis, might fall into despair and begin to lose faith in the Almighty. It is times like this that some will even reject the God of the Universe since they might be led to believe that God has lost faith in them. Obviously, God has not given us any reason to lose hope or faith in Him ... it is just the weakness of our nature which confuses some to believe that our loving Father has abandoned them. Not only are we called to “keep the faith” but we are directed to share that faith with others.

The first sentence of Article IV of the Military Code of Conduct states, “If I become a prisoner of war, I will keep faith with my fellow prisoners.” Difficult times actually dictate that we be strong in our own faith but also directs that in such circumstances that we need to lead others through our example. Tough orders!

All of us are called to be leaders of faith. We have a God-given vocation to be faith role models. It may be that we have a calling to share this faith in our capacity of parents ...or simply as a faithful friend. It is not that others are to look-up-to us but we should recognize that people will look-to us as a person of faith. The “light of faith” needs to emanate from us in all that we do... in good times... in bad times … in challenging times... in every crisis we encounter.

How do I strengthen myself to be ready to maintain my faith in God for the sake of my very soul and the souls of others that look me? Scriptures, in Paul's letter to the Romans (Romans 12:12) gives us the answer, “Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.”

“Servabo Fidem”, “Semper Fidelis”

So, you can see that in order to “Keep the Faith” and to be “Always Faithful” it is important that we maintain and nourish our own prayer life. A well-developed, mature spirituality requires consistent, open communication lines with our Father, the Creator. It should be reiterated that we cannot be effective in leading others in faith unless we ourselves are first fed and nourished through prayer.

Noticing that this episode of “The Lone Ranger” radio program had come to its conclusion while I was meditating on the phrase “Servabo Fidem”, it was time to try to get a few hours sleep before morning sprang upon me. Again, the head sank into the pillow ... this time without any voices whispering from my pillow.

My eyelids started to get heavy again and my breathing once again became more rhythmical. As I started to slide into my slumber, my mind kept repeating the phrase, “Servabo Fidem”, "I Will Keep Faith”, “Servabo Fidem”, "I Will Keep Faith”, “Faith”, “Faithful”, ...Oh well... there's no time like the present...

"Our Father, who art in Heaven...."

Coffee, Tea, or ...Jokes

“Coffee, Tea, or … Jokes?”

When most folks take their first few rides in an airplane, they usually sit-up straight and listen rather carefully to the safety instructions relayed to them by the flight attendants. A few non-catastrophic flights later, you might find that a number of these same passengers have become “more-casual” listeners... and, as such, are now less-attentive to the memorized spiel delivered by non-enthusiastic, non-engaging flight attendants. Slumped in their seats, (though everyone's trays are stowed and locked ...and everyone's chairs are properly in the “full, upright position”), the all-too-typical passengers can be seen with their eyes glued to the tattered in-flight magazine or thumbing their way through the dog-eared gift catalog... doing anything (and everything) to avoid being attentive to the worthy words of warning. Such is the *perfect setup* for a potential tragedy.

Part of the problem here just might lie with the presenter ...or, at least, with the method of delivering this extremely important message. These highly-trained, highly-skilled flight attendants have probably given the same ole sing-song demonstration hundreds of times (...this month) but *today* they look around the cabin and they note that only a few passengers are actually listening to the instructions that could save their lives ...or the life of a loved one sitting near them. These must be the first-time fliers. Apathy is the basic ingredient in the formula for a catastrophe waiting to happen. So, how does one get them to listen? How do you wake them to realize that this is important?

Airlines have noted this critical problem and have tried various ways to try to deal with the issue of effectively communicating these vital directions to their clients, the customers... the passengers. One approach taken by certain airlines is to do nothing more than to play a pre-recorded monologue of these same government required instructions while a mute flight attendant demonstrates how to fasten a seat belt above their heads and then pretends to don and inflate a life vest inside the cabin. This might be the cheapest solution and this approach might have been designed probably just to save someone from stumbling on any one word or to take all emotion out of the approach. Such an approach or attempted solution is horribly insulting to most passengers and evidently is nothing more than a lazy approach by the airline trying to deal with a Federal mandate. What kind of message does *that* convey? Those particular airlines must think that this information is not really important after all. One can only wonder what the offending airlines were thinking when they developed ...and embraced …this approach to critical education. Give their attempt at dealing with the issue a solid “F” ...for “FAIL”. If you happen to think that this particular grade might be harsh or unfair... scan the seats during the monologue and try to detect the number of active listeners (if any). Unfortunately, our current grading scale doesn't go lower than “F”.

Shouldn't there be a “No Passenger Left Behind” program? *Everyone* needs to “get" IT. This is serious stuff!

Another couple of airlines thought they would go one-step beyond the pre-recorded audio file (complete with the demonstrating mute flight attendants) and simply play a pre-recorded video message, ...having shiny-faced actors demonstrate how to perform these life-saving acts while the theme song of the airline “du jour” plays in the background. The next time that you have to sit through one of these pre-recorded video messages... finish the training by giving everyone in the cabin a closed-book test, examining the content of the video to which they were just exposed. Some passengers just might be able to tell you about freckled face boy struggling to put his backpack in the overhead compartment or how they noticed the pixie-looking red-headed girl grabbing the oxygen mask ...but these students would probably not be able to tell you how many rows from their seat till the nearest exit. That just might be pretty important information if you and your loved ones are crawling on your hands and knees trying to maneuver out of a smoke-filled plane. The students just might remember that an MP3 player is one of those electronic devices that cannot be operated until the pilot announces that they have arrived at the prescribed height. Test to see who is really listening to the message. Egad! Is anyone really listening? Does anybody really care? “This plane doesn't take off till everyone gets 100% correct.” “...and No Fair looking at your neighbor's answers!”

Folks... automation is not always the answer. This probably includes all aforementioned audio recordings and video playbacks. In fact, it is my strong belief is that automation like this tends to consistently engender a spirit of public rudeness. Such a philosophy clearly relates that it is not really very “efficient” to personally interact with humans. At all cost... avoid looking in the human's eyes! These automated depersonalizing devices (though seen by some as the path to efficiency) ...can lead to dehumanization. (Oh... and do *not* even get me started on automated-attendant phone systems, “…Press pound sign 666 to speak to a human”.) It is time to Stand up and demand to always speak to a human, ...and not just a disembodied voice from a far-off foreign country. Look in our eyes and communicate with us because we are the Customer. Remember: That the job you save ... and the *soul* you save … just may be your own. Service … “NOW THAT'S A CONCEPT!”

Lest we digress...

These instructional videos of hyper-critical, highly-sensitive airline safety information too often serve to be little more than shamelessly-disguised commercials for the sponsoring airline. Nice acting... nice voice-over, lots of smiling, photogenic faces ...but the packaged media still fails to adequately capture everyone's attention.  What we need now is a NEW approach. We have a problem and now we need a hero!

It seems so utterly rude ...how some seasoned airline passengers completely and consistently ignore these vital safety instructions. Maybe these folks are thinking, “Yada, Yada, … none of this pertains to me”. “Same ole … Same ole...”. “We are *not* going to have a sudden drop in cabin pressure today and we are not going to do an emergency landing in the water ...today.” These down-right rude individuals just might be right... for THIS flight ...or they might be ... dead wrong!  Whenever Mr., Mrs., or Miss “Know-It-All” completely ignores the instructions ...or (...worse yet) talks so loud to their neighbor that surrounding passengers cannot hear these vital instructions ...the life they jeopardize might be their own … or one of those closest to them. These inconsiderately rude slobs prove that they are nothing more than common, ill-bred, uneducated, uncouth boors who only care about themselves. Please move to the back of the plane.

Nevertheless, in this atmosphere of apathetic and rude clients, the senior flight attendant  still must make every effort to effectively communicate the essential safety message so that their captive audience will attentively listen to the presentation ...for their own life ...and their *very* soul just might depend on it. What a powerful concept!

Every last soul on-board just might need to know where the nearest exit is located. They might need to know that it is truly important to put the oxygen mask on the child only after they have secured their own mask. These souls just might need to know how to use the airline-provided parachute. Oh, you missed THAT part? But seriously folks... just wanted to see if you were paying attention to these musings. (For the record.. only the pilot and the rest of the flight crew get to use the parachutes... so the rest of us better “listen up”).
 

Preachers, teachers, coaches and other educators have to deal with the same challenge every day. How should critical material be presented so that everyone will sit up and take notice? How does one present the important message that may have been previously delivered numerous times so that this time everyone will hear and say to themselves “Hey, this is important ...and it applies to me!”

Southwest Airlines has a flight attendant who has obviously effectively met this challenge ...through humor and grace. Introducing … “Tony”! ...our Hero!

On a short hop last week from San Diego to Las Vegas, “Tony” served as the Senior Flight Attendant for the flight. The Senior Flight Attendant is *the* member of the flight crew (other than the pilot) that has absolute control of the microphone. From the moment the passengers first entered the cabin, “Tony”, with PA in hand, greeted passengers with words of welcome and a generous dose of humor and general levity. That approach seems to be more welcomed and more refreshing that the warm, scented wash cloths that they distribute in First Class on other airlines. (...Now how would MOST of us know THAT?)

Senior Flight Attendant “Tony” commandeered the PA system as if it was a standing microphone at a theater for stand-up-comics. In less than a minute, passengers' papers started to be put away, ...people stopped chatting with one another and all eyes became focused on “Tony”. “Now performing on Flight 1250... 'Tony' in the Lido Lounge.”

Now for the true test... how to keep everyone's attention as you gently slide, skillfully segue right into the FAA-required safety demonstration. Absolute Success! Amazing how, (given the correct personality with the correct energy) that one can keep a captive audience on the edge of their seats. Take the blase content and spice it up... yuk it up ...so you get the critical message across to everyone.  Now it just may be that “Tony” delivers the exact same shtick in the same way ...on every flight he serves ...but it appears to be an act that “works” not just for “Tony” but also for his audience. His shtick will continue to “work” as long as “Tony” continues to “read” his audience and constantly tries to “keep it fresh”. Maybe “Tony” should do some consulting work for some school systems since a number of high school educators seem to need help in getting critical data through to their audience. Additionally, any number of seminaries would be well-served to hire “Tony” in methods of preaching and persuasive speaking. Of course, Southwest Airlines should do everything in their power to retain and show appreciation to this valuable employee.

This epistle might not be the proper forum for detailing the particulars of “Tony's” act... verbatim. It just may turn out that such a disclosure would probably be a violation of some sort of copyright law. So, to fully appreciate how “Tony” can fully convey the critical safety messages while having everyone listen attentively... it might behoove you ...and also be “uplifting” for you to fly Southwest Airline as soon as possible ... if, for no other reason, than to try to catch “Tony's” act.

By the time “Tony” finished providing the valuable safety information (and simultaneously entertaining us) ...the cabin broke into spontaneous applause. No surprise! "Tony's" delivery and style of presentation absolutely did nothing to dilute the importance of the critical information. The light routine and hilarious banter continued long after that demonstration and even long after take-off. When the plane touched down in Las Vegas it was necessary for me to reluctantly change planes for Columbus. Those folks who were going to continue with “Tony” all the way to Tampa were to be envied. That might be a fun-filled flight for all. (What a wonderful concept!)

Southwest Airlines would be wise to use “Tony” ...and the other enthusiastic flight attendants of his crew in their television commercials and other forms of media advertisements. ++++++
How about...?

Flight attendants on other airlines give you little more than “Buh-bye” …“Buh-bye” ...and maybe a bag of peanuts (...or NOT) ...but here at Southwest Airlines we have flight attendants and other employees who are actually G-L-A-D when you choose to fly with us.

It shows on their faces and in everything they do. “What a wonderful concept!”

Treat the customer ... like you would like to be treated.

It's Southwest Airline's GOLDEN concept!

So, now is the time to book your next flight on Southwest Airlines with “Tony” ...or with any of “Tony's” co-workers … all of whom want YOU to fly with them ...and then come back to fly with them, again and again.

...Fade to an electronic message board in the Southwest waiting area which flashes, “Now appearing on Flight 1250... 'Tony' and crew!” (LOL) 
..Pan to cabin full of happy smiling passengers. 
...Fade to black.

------------------------------------------

The Time Has Come To Fly the Hilarious Skies of Southwest Airlines

Kudos to “Tony”, his crew and all of Southwest Airlines!

++++++++++++++++++++++

...Here endeth the lesson...

Amen!! Amen!

MDJ

DISCLAIMER: Mike D. Jones is not currently employed by or materially affiliated in any way with Southwest Airline (...except that his wife might be considered a “frequent flyer”). Additionally, Mike D. Jones does not personally know “Tony” and Mike D. Jones never met “Tony” before the flight or spoken to him since... nor does “Tony” need the services of Mike D. Jones as his personal press agent or booking agent. Finally, Mike D. Jones has not received any form of compensation from Southwest Airline for writing this missive... (yet). However, if only Southwest Airline could be persuaded to add a direct (non-stop) flight from Columbus (CMH) to a quaint little resort community on the west coast of Mexico (ZLO) ...Mike D. Jones and several other long-time Southwest Airline customers (and fans) would be forever grateful. 

 

A Rite of Passage

Certain critical events in our humble existence are so monumental, so life-changing that we refer to them as "Rites of Passage". These critical moments shape and define who ....or "what" we are to become. These events are so important that we ritualize the individual milestone and do our best to sacramentalize (i.e. "make holy") these significant turning points in our lives. A few of these life-defining moments might be; Baptism (or Christening / Naming ceremony), for some... maybe a Circumcision or Bris ritual (Ooooo ...Ouch!), First Holy Communion, Confirmation (or Bar Mitzvah / Bat Mitzvah), Sweet Sixteen (or Quinceañera), a Wedding, a Religious Profession, or maybe even an Ordination.
Another set of these "rites of passage" are centered around the advancement from one significant level of educational accomplishment to another. These are known as Graduations. Oftentimes, we sacramentalize (i.e. "make holy") these graduations by invoking God's blessing on those who are ending one phase of their lives and beginning another. One ritual used to invoke the divine blessing on the graduates is called a baccalaureate service (... or Baccalaureate Mass). Last night, several hundred of us gathered at a local church to celebrate a Baccalaureate Mass asking God to share graces on one hundred and seventeen matriculating seniors from a local Catholic High School. We are proud of the accomplishments of these young adults in arriving to this point in their life but we realize that they dearly need Strength from the Almighty for the journey that lies ahead of them. God bless each and every one of our graduates.