Today begins the three holiest days of the Liturgical calendar. Tonight's service has always been one of my favorites. But the last two years I have not attended. Two years ago, twelve women in my family met at a villa in Italy and on this day I was traveling. (People do wonderful things. One of our daughter Mary's clients, when she heard that I had lung cancer gave me enough mileage points to travel first class - the only way to travel to Europe) Last year I was on a train to Idaho, traveling again. This year, I'll be here at my home parish, St. Thomas. Looking forward to this evening.
It may be the Irish in me, but this holy day also reminds me of one of my favorite jokes.
Father O'Brien had grown up in Ireland in the midst of 'the troubles' and strongly disliked the English. Every chance he got, in his homily on the Gospel he would have some cutting remark about those peoples across the Irish Sea. The make-up of his parish was changing and people began to complain to the Bishop. The Bishop called him in and admonished him that he had to stop or he would take away his parish. And said he would stop in periodically to make sure he gave no more homilies against the English.
The Bishop did and Father O didn't.
But it came Holy Thursday and the Gospel was on the betrayal of Jesus. Father O'Brien started his homily: "Jaysus gathered the twelve around him and said 'Before the night is over, one of ya will betray me' Pater said, 'Is it I, Lord?' Jaysus said 'No, Pater'. John asked: 'Tis it me, Lord' 'No, John' Jaysus answered. Judas Iscariot asked: 'I say, Old Chap, is it I'."
The rest of the story......When I was a tour guide for the History Trolley Tours, there were times in the city when there was little history, so I would fill in with trivia or a little joke. I love the story of Father O'Brien and so I would tell it. When the tours first started, we had a brief questionnaire to get feedback on the tour and the guide. I was written up because of that joke, there were English types on board who thought the joke was in poor taste. Now my ancestry is much more British than Irish, I just liked the story. Oh, well!!
Thursday, March 28, 2013
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
St. Peter's Tomb
Yesterday I taped the installation of Pope Francis as the Bishop of Rome. This evening I have been watching it and at one point he walked down to the Tomb of St. Peter, the first Pope who was appointed by Jesus. You can't help but wonder what was his prayer.
Seeing this seemingly humble man kneeling there, it brought back memories from 1993 when I went on a pilgrimage to seven countries in Europe in twenty-three days. It was an amazing experience and one that I am eternally grateful.
One morning we had Mass at the tomb of St. Peter. This is what I wrote in my journal.
Rome 7-24-93
Up this morning at 6:00 - and a brisk walk to the Vatican. Our group were the first through the front doors this day. Not many around at 7:00 except a few nuns and security. The Swiss Guards wear navy colored uniforms in the morning and at night - only the colorful ones during the day - the navy ones look just like the others. They are made from a beautiful material.
We looked around the church until Father Mac (Father MacKinnon, our Chaplain on the trip) was led from the sacristy and they ushered our group to the altar in front of St. Peter's tomb. Father was very pleased to get this spot even at 7:30 a.m. A sister from Pittsburgh joined us for Mass.
Frank (was from Saipan in the Mariannas Islands. He was the choir director at the Cathedral there) had bought a chalice for a new priest in his diocese. He said the man was very poor and only had a plain cup given to him by the diocese. Frank wanted him to have a very nice one. Frank is very generous. From what he says, status is very important on Saipan. Anyway, Fr. Mac used this new chalice at Mass and as it turned out Frank was the first lay person to drink from it. The new priest was ordained July 9, my birthday. As I took Communion, I thought about the incongruity of life. His ordination on one side of the world on my birthday - my being at the first time the Chalice was used on the other side of the world.
We came back for breakfast (to the hotel) and at 10:00 headed back for the diggings. Under the Vatican about 1939, they discovered a Roman burial ground and also the site of the original St. Peters built by Constantine is partly there as well. This was much more interesting then the catacombs. We then went through the Vatican museum and Sistine Chapel.
The museums are spectacular. Sculpture from B.C., beautiful works of art and tapestries - too numerous to mention. What a treasure trove.
I was a little disappointed in the Chapel. It's so much to take in. I always thought it was round - and there's no altar just benches along the walls. The painting are spectacular - but not restful.
While reading for this trip about Pilgrimages, I read about Islamic tradition having all Muslims come to Mecca in their lifetime. Today at Mass in this holy place, I could understand their need. We can be good Catholics and never come to Rome and the Vatican but being here makes you feel so privileged to be here. Fr. Mac said the best thing we could do was to go home and serve the Lord by being the best we can be.
While we were waiting for a Pope to be selected, I was asked several times who I wanted to take Benedict's place. My prayer was that whomever was chosen would be the best for the Church. I hope all of our prayers have been answered.
Seeing this seemingly humble man kneeling there, it brought back memories from 1993 when I went on a pilgrimage to seven countries in Europe in twenty-three days. It was an amazing experience and one that I am eternally grateful.
Rome 7-24-93
Up this morning at 6:00 - and a brisk walk to the Vatican. Our group were the first through the front doors this day. Not many around at 7:00 except a few nuns and security. The Swiss Guards wear navy colored uniforms in the morning and at night - only the colorful ones during the day - the navy ones look just like the others. They are made from a beautiful material.
We looked around the church until Father Mac (Father MacKinnon, our Chaplain on the trip) was led from the sacristy and they ushered our group to the altar in front of St. Peter's tomb. Father was very pleased to get this spot even at 7:30 a.m. A sister from Pittsburgh joined us for Mass.
Frank (was from Saipan in the Mariannas Islands. He was the choir director at the Cathedral there) had bought a chalice for a new priest in his diocese. He said the man was very poor and only had a plain cup given to him by the diocese. Frank wanted him to have a very nice one. Frank is very generous. From what he says, status is very important on Saipan. Anyway, Fr. Mac used this new chalice at Mass and as it turned out Frank was the first lay person to drink from it. The new priest was ordained July 9, my birthday. As I took Communion, I thought about the incongruity of life. His ordination on one side of the world on my birthday - my being at the first time the Chalice was used on the other side of the world.
We came back for breakfast (to the hotel) and at 10:00 headed back for the diggings. Under the Vatican about 1939, they discovered a Roman burial ground and also the site of the original St. Peters built by Constantine is partly there as well. This was much more interesting then the catacombs. We then went through the Vatican museum and Sistine Chapel.
The museums are spectacular. Sculpture from B.C., beautiful works of art and tapestries - too numerous to mention. What a treasure trove.
I was a little disappointed in the Chapel. It's so much to take in. I always thought it was round - and there's no altar just benches along the walls. The painting are spectacular - but not restful.
While reading for this trip about Pilgrimages, I read about Islamic tradition having all Muslims come to Mecca in their lifetime. Today at Mass in this holy place, I could understand their need. We can be good Catholics and never come to Rome and the Vatican but being here makes you feel so privileged to be here. Fr. Mac said the best thing we could do was to go home and serve the Lord by being the best we can be.
While we were waiting for a Pope to be selected, I was asked several times who I wanted to take Benedict's place. My prayer was that whomever was chosen would be the best for the Church. I hope all of our prayers have been answered.
Monday, March 11, 2013
Anointing
Our Catholic Faith has seven Sacraments - Baptism, Confirmation, Eucharist, Penance, Marriage, Holy Orders, and the Sacrament of the Sick. When I was growing up the Sacrament of the Sick was called Extreme Unction (extreme as in last and unction which means anointing). If the Priest was called to administer this last Sacrament, you knew the end was very near. It was not uncommon, for the sick person not to realize just how close they were to death until Father walked into the room. Our Protestant friend, Bill, tells about being in the hospital and awakening and seeing our former Pastor, Father Hughes, sitting in his hospital room and thinking: "Just how sick am I?" Bill didn't realize that Father visited parishioners in the hospital once a week
Wisely, somewhere along the way, the Church decided to change this Sacrament so that it could be administered more often. A former pastor at St. Patricks, Msgr. Swanner, would offer the Sacrament one Sunday each year during Mass to anyone who felt a need to be blessed and pray for healing. I see this Sacrament as a wonderful gift and have been anointed many times. When I was about to have my first PET scan after being diagnosed with Cancer, after daily Mass I asked the Pastor if he would give me the Sacrament of the Sick and he said yes, got the Holy Oils (every Catholic Church keeps them on hand) and anointed me, saying the prayers, making the Sign of the Cross on my forehead and the palms of my hands. When I thanked him, Msgr. Watson said: "I love it when people ask me for the Sacraments!!" - He is a special, special person.
Last Sunday was the annual Anointing Mass at St. Thomas. There were about one hundred people there and after the homily, Father asked us to come forward and he would anoint us. I don't know what it is about this Sacrament but it is very moving for me and especially so this week. Father anointed my head, and hands and then with his hand he put my two hands together and held my hand in a minute positive grip and smiled. (He did this to everyone who came before him) I just choked up. and through the rest of the Mass, when I stood to sing or join in the prayers, I couldn't, I was too ver klempt. Especially at Communion, when we say together: "Only say the Word and my Soul shall be healed." Did you notice how many times in the Bible when someone asks for a healing, Jesus answers: "Your sins are forgiven". Sometimes He adds that they are healed but I have come to understand that when we know we are forgiven we ARE healed.
I haven't had a chemo treatment since May, 2012. I decided not to do that anymore. I've been going to a chiropractor, Maximized Living, who espouses chiro treatments, exercise and changing your lifestyle. Reading food labels, doing away with refined products and eating more fresh and natural foods. I probably live this way 85% of the time, which is pretty good for me - sometimes I just have to have a McDonalds breakfast burrito and a cola - $2.21. I feel good, I have been coughing a little more and the pleurisy on my left side can be challenging sometimes. My PET scans every three months have all been the same as when I was getting chemo treatments, a small amount of cancer growth but not significant.
In early January, I visited my eye doctor. He asked about the cancer, I told him what I had been doing and he asked if I had ever tried essential oils. Yes, I had heard about them but didn't know a lot. He said he puts two drops of clove oil on the instep of each foot each day and feels it has given him more stamina in his legs. He suggested I go visit a local pharmacy, where they carry the oils. He had a book on oils and there was a 'recipe' for Lung cancer. I wrote down the 'recipe', two of the oils used are the holiest of oils, frankincense and myrrh.
I haven't done the 'recipe' yet, thinking about it but I have been using clove oil on my instep and on the toes on my right foot. When I fell last May, I injured the nerve that controls my toes so if it helps, why not? Sounds crazy? Might be! But I am open to alternative treatments. I can't believe that pumping your body full of poison - chemo - is the only way to live with cancer.
Tomorrow, I will have another PET scan, and will get the results the following week - it takes that long to get in the system. I will keep you informed.
Wisely, somewhere along the way, the Church decided to change this Sacrament so that it could be administered more often. A former pastor at St. Patricks, Msgr. Swanner, would offer the Sacrament one Sunday each year during Mass to anyone who felt a need to be blessed and pray for healing. I see this Sacrament as a wonderful gift and have been anointed many times. When I was about to have my first PET scan after being diagnosed with Cancer, after daily Mass I asked the Pastor if he would give me the Sacrament of the Sick and he said yes, got the Holy Oils (every Catholic Church keeps them on hand) and anointed me, saying the prayers, making the Sign of the Cross on my forehead and the palms of my hands. When I thanked him, Msgr. Watson said: "I love it when people ask me for the Sacraments!!" - He is a special, special person.
Last Sunday was the annual Anointing Mass at St. Thomas. There were about one hundred people there and after the homily, Father asked us to come forward and he would anoint us. I don't know what it is about this Sacrament but it is very moving for me and especially so this week. Father anointed my head, and hands and then with his hand he put my two hands together and held my hand in a minute positive grip and smiled. (He did this to everyone who came before him) I just choked up. and through the rest of the Mass, when I stood to sing or join in the prayers, I couldn't, I was too ver klempt. Especially at Communion, when we say together: "Only say the Word and my Soul shall be healed." Did you notice how many times in the Bible when someone asks for a healing, Jesus answers: "Your sins are forgiven". Sometimes He adds that they are healed but I have come to understand that when we know we are forgiven we ARE healed.
I haven't had a chemo treatment since May, 2012. I decided not to do that anymore. I've been going to a chiropractor, Maximized Living, who espouses chiro treatments, exercise and changing your lifestyle. Reading food labels, doing away with refined products and eating more fresh and natural foods. I probably live this way 85% of the time, which is pretty good for me - sometimes I just have to have a McDonalds breakfast burrito and a cola - $2.21. I feel good, I have been coughing a little more and the pleurisy on my left side can be challenging sometimes. My PET scans every three months have all been the same as when I was getting chemo treatments, a small amount of cancer growth but not significant.
In early January, I visited my eye doctor. He asked about the cancer, I told him what I had been doing and he asked if I had ever tried essential oils. Yes, I had heard about them but didn't know a lot. He said he puts two drops of clove oil on the instep of each foot each day and feels it has given him more stamina in his legs. He suggested I go visit a local pharmacy, where they carry the oils. He had a book on oils and there was a 'recipe' for Lung cancer. I wrote down the 'recipe', two of the oils used are the holiest of oils, frankincense and myrrh.
I haven't done the 'recipe' yet, thinking about it but I have been using clove oil on my instep and on the toes on my right foot. When I fell last May, I injured the nerve that controls my toes so if it helps, why not? Sounds crazy? Might be! But I am open to alternative treatments. I can't believe that pumping your body full of poison - chemo - is the only way to live with cancer.
Tomorrow, I will have another PET scan, and will get the results the following week - it takes that long to get in the system. I will keep you informed.
Thursday, March 7, 2013
The St. Patrick Day Play
On Sunday, I drove down to Belleville, Illinois with Dr. Patricia O'Connell, her mother, Eileen and Frances Farraher. All four of us are State Officers in the Ladies Ancient Order of Hibernians, an Irish Catholic Women's Organization. We were going down to support the annual fundraiser of the St. Clair County L.A.O.H. It was a lovely event and well organized. Thouroughly enjoyable!!
Pat was driving and Eileen was her navigator and Fran and I were in the backseat. Fran and I went to school together at both St. Pats and AOL, our mothers were officers in the Women's Guild together and were friends. Now one of the things I like best about Fran is she has an amazing memory, she brought me back to times I had forgotten and I enjoyed my time with her.
One memory that she brought up was about the St. Patricks Day plays. I went to the southside St. Patricks school for Kindergarten and First Grade - we moved up on the bluff for a couple of years - and then back for Fourth through Eighth Grades.
Right after the beginning of the new year, Mary Margaret O'Hern, would come to the school and teach each class Elocution Lessons. Most of the speaking parts were played by Eighth Graders and the other classes came on and off doing a musical number or an appropriate Irish poem that fit in the storyline. Mrs. O'Hern wrote the script, and decided what songs and poems were performed. The Sisters decided which class would do what and practiced during music time in the classroom. (Our brother, Richard - who turns seventy tomorrow - was in first grade and rushed home, burst in the backdoor shouting to Mother: "I have the lead in the St. Patricks Day Play!" "You do?", she asked, knowing that those parts went to older kids. "Yes", was his excited reply, "I lead everybody on the stage and everybody off!")
Next, we then went down to the meeting room in the basement of the school and practiced singing and gestures and then on the Fifteenth of March we walked down to Roosevelt Junior High School where we rehearsed on their stage and then again the next day and that was the sight of our performance for family and friends.
Mary Margaret had jet black hair, was married to an attorney and always smelled slightly of a wee touch of Irish Whiskey. She could be a stern task master and we were all a little in awe of her. She was very attractive - although as I now remember, that black hair sometimes had a little gray around the hairline. She usually wore her hair back with a black headband.
It was a big time for the Scovil kids, because we got a pair of new shoes. Our Easter shoes, that we wore for the performance and couldn't wear again until Resurrection Day itself. I remember surreptitiously getting the - most always - the black patent shoes out and wearing them around the bedroom in that interval between St. Patricks Day and Easter. There was no way I would put them on where my Mother could see me.
I don't remember who had the leads the year I was in Eighth Grade, it wasn't me, I may have had a line or two. I do remember thinking that when I was young and saw the Eighth Graders, that they looked so old and grown up but we didn't seem grown up at all. Another memory is of Jimmy Mason, a classmate, who had an amazing tenor voice, sang "Jerusalem" at the intermission. I have always loved that song.
The Play was always held on the Sixteenth of March and at the end of the evening, Msgr. Patrick O'Culletin, our Pastor, in his lilting Irish brogue, would come on stage and tell us and our parents what a wonderful job we had done and that we had the next day off to a cheering Grade School and polite applause from the parents.
Thanks, Fran, for helping me remember about one of the high points of the Grade School year, The St. Patricks Day Play.
Pat was driving and Eileen was her navigator and Fran and I were in the backseat. Fran and I went to school together at both St. Pats and AOL, our mothers were officers in the Women's Guild together and were friends. Now one of the things I like best about Fran is she has an amazing memory, she brought me back to times I had forgotten and I enjoyed my time with her.
One memory that she brought up was about the St. Patricks Day plays. I went to the southside St. Patricks school for Kindergarten and First Grade - we moved up on the bluff for a couple of years - and then back for Fourth through Eighth Grades.
Right after the beginning of the new year, Mary Margaret O'Hern, would come to the school and teach each class Elocution Lessons. Most of the speaking parts were played by Eighth Graders and the other classes came on and off doing a musical number or an appropriate Irish poem that fit in the storyline. Mrs. O'Hern wrote the script, and decided what songs and poems were performed. The Sisters decided which class would do what and practiced during music time in the classroom. (Our brother, Richard - who turns seventy tomorrow - was in first grade and rushed home, burst in the backdoor shouting to Mother: "I have the lead in the St. Patricks Day Play!" "You do?", she asked, knowing that those parts went to older kids. "Yes", was his excited reply, "I lead everybody on the stage and everybody off!")
Next, we then went down to the meeting room in the basement of the school and practiced singing and gestures and then on the Fifteenth of March we walked down to Roosevelt Junior High School where we rehearsed on their stage and then again the next day and that was the sight of our performance for family and friends.
Mary Margaret had jet black hair, was married to an attorney and always smelled slightly of a wee touch of Irish Whiskey. She could be a stern task master and we were all a little in awe of her. She was very attractive - although as I now remember, that black hair sometimes had a little gray around the hairline. She usually wore her hair back with a black headband.
It was a big time for the Scovil kids, because we got a pair of new shoes. Our Easter shoes, that we wore for the performance and couldn't wear again until Resurrection Day itself. I remember surreptitiously getting the - most always - the black patent shoes out and wearing them around the bedroom in that interval between St. Patricks Day and Easter. There was no way I would put them on where my Mother could see me.
I don't remember who had the leads the year I was in Eighth Grade, it wasn't me, I may have had a line or two. I do remember thinking that when I was young and saw the Eighth Graders, that they looked so old and grown up but we didn't seem grown up at all. Another memory is of Jimmy Mason, a classmate, who had an amazing tenor voice, sang "Jerusalem" at the intermission. I have always loved that song.
The Play was always held on the Sixteenth of March and at the end of the evening, Msgr. Patrick O'Culletin, our Pastor, in his lilting Irish brogue, would come on stage and tell us and our parents what a wonderful job we had done and that we had the next day off to a cheering Grade School and polite applause from the parents.
Thanks, Fran, for helping me remember about one of the high points of the Grade School year, The St. Patricks Day Play.
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