Our readings for Sunday are here.
These are the poem, my notes, and interpretations of Fr Dennis’ homily from the Mass of
- November 18, 2018 10AM
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The poem Fr Dennis references this year is:
- Tosca by George Bilgere
In 2018, we reflected on —
- The readings continue with the darker, apocalyptic feel as we near the end of the liturgical year. A brief cameo by Fr Eric Sundrup, SJ, reminds us that we must continue to unveil God’s Love and Mercy. We will not be overcome — “Heaven and earth will pass away but not my words,” says The Word.
- D2’s main point of reflection: Both the first reading and gospel (from quite different eras of Jewish history) have us look back, but in those readings of the past we hear prophecies of the future — leaving us squarely in the present. Why?
- One reason is that we experience a common, a shared memory
- Martin Scorcese shared that his films fulfill a spiritual need for him, to share a common memory
- George Bilgere’s poem captures that sense of a shared present moment formed by a shared past from a listening to a record.
- rl chimes in that musical recordings offer that gift, or period-instrument musical ensembles (e.g., Apollo’s Fire), or historic theaters (e.g., the Michigan Theater in Ann Arbor) in which we have our experience now, share it with all similar undated experiences (seeing any film in the historic theater), AND share across a century while watching in the 2020s a silent film from the 1920s accompanied by a live organist on the original organ. It is simply a richer experience.
- and one last rl chime of reflection — spending time with my Texas family works in my body and soul in a different way now that we have four generations, almost one century, of life in the same time and space — from the youngest grandniece to my Mom, in her mid-nineties. Those invisible connections draw me to the darker ends — of the actuarial tables working against Mom, of what feels like an end to near unlimited human inhabitation of the planet — and to the light and hopes of the future and past — the doomsdays of Mom’s generation nearly a century ago — yet we are still here, the radiant gift of life in my nephew, niece, and the possibilities their families are. They all illuminate and give depth to my present. One more gift from the Cosmic Christ to be thankful for, as we round the corner to Thanksgiving in the United States.
The Surest Sign 