Searching for God

Advent ends with Christmas Eve Mass, but the search continues. Christ comes in the morning through miracle of new birth, but our longing is not satisfied completely. He is our hope, our salvation and our joy. But we too often remain apart from him, not fully united with him or anyone else, alone and afraid.

Christmas brings us closer to him—if we open our minds and hearts, if we reach out to him through our care for “the least of these, my brothers and sisters.”

Being close to Christ is what we long for at Christmas whether we know it or not. The sights and smells and sounds of this holy season connect us to him. But only if we let them, if we ignore the distractions of “the commercial Christmas” and embrace a far simpler festival.

Silent night, holy night. All is calm. All is bright. Round yon virgin, mother and child, holy infant so tender and mild. Sleep in heavenly peace. Sleep in heavenly peace. 

Let us free Christmas from the worldliness that has taken it hostage! The true spirit of Christmas is the beauty of being loved by God. (Pope Francis)

Nice words, but what does it mean to say that “the true spirit of Christmas is the beauty of being loved by God”?

Being loved by God is a beautiful thing—especially when we think what an incredible thing that is. The God who made the universe (all things visible and invisible) in all its infinite vastness and complexity knows me by name and loves me in spite of all my selfishness and sin. What a Christmas gift! What a wondrous thing to contemplate and accept in all humility!

The Christmas miracle is that the little child lying in a manger loves me, forgives me and makes me whole by the power of his grace.

No amount of worldliness can nullify this extraordinary gift from God to each of us, his children.

This is Dill Harris, my daughter Suzanne’s 8 year-old pug. Today, Dill had cataracts removed from both of his eyes. Because of the miracle of modern veterinary medicine, Dill will not be completely blind. Instead, he will continue to be a faithful companion for Suzanne and for her family and friends for the rest of his natural life. 

A lot of nonsense is said and done these days regarding pet animals. They are pampered and indulged beyond belief. But we should never underestimate the role animals (both domestic and wild) play in God’s creation. Animals are witnesses to the mystery and beauty of life. They remind us that we humans are not “masters of the universe” but stewards and companions of all God’s creatures. 

When the vet’s office called to tell Suzanne that Dill was out of surgery and doing well, our 5 year-old granddaughter, Jocelyn, lit up like a Christmas tree. She was so pleased to learn that Dill is really OK. Her innocent smile said it all. 

What does a great pastor look like? How can you recognize a good shepherd (pastor bonus) from one who’s only going through the motions? His smile is your first clue. There are plenty of grumpy priests, but the happy ones make the best pastors. Their joy is contagious. A calm demeanor is also a sign. Good pastors have faith in God’s providence.  They’ve seen and heard everything. They know that anxious cares and excessive worry never solved anything. A quiet presence is often the best response to the chaos of daily living. Good pastors come in all shapes and sizes. They’re old and young, active and contemplative, patient and impatient, but they are always prayerful and loving in their “care of souls.” During the past 40 years, I have been privileged to work with, and become close friends with, many outstanding pastors. All deserve enormous gratitude and respect especially during this holy season of the year!

A great pastor and a good friend: Monsignor Salvatore  E. Polizzi, Pastor of St. Roch Catholic Church, St. Louis, Missouri. 

Joy to the World. Jingle Bells. Silent Night. And more. The annual Conway Christmas Party happened yesterday afternoon. Four generations of Conways gathered to reconnect, reminisce and enjoy. Lots of good food. Lots of stories about Conway adventures: past, present and yet to come.

Singing Christmas carols confirmed beyond all doubt that my voice is shot. Fortunately my cousins (and my 93 year-old Uncle Bud) shown here, and off-camera too, carried the tunes. That’s what family does. It fills in our gaps and helps carry our burdens.

We Conways are survivors. We’ve seen it all, lived through it all, suffered it all and, yet, rejoiced. We freely admit we are blessed—even as we confront all the challenges of family life today.

Joy to the world!

It’s good to be back in Cleveland—my birthplace and the home of my youth. Much has changed since I last lived here in the late 1970s. Mostly an improvement. 

I still have family here—a brother and his family and lots of aunts, uncles and cousins. We are gathering today for the Conway Christmas Party, the only time each year that we get together (outside of funerals). I’m looking forward to it, but with some mixed emotions. 

Growing up here wasn’t always easy. There was lots of pressure to conform to an ideal image of what it meant to be a Conway. I didn’t always fit the pattern and, so, often felt that I wasn’t good enough. Many years have passed, and I long ago accepted myself as more than “good enough” (with the help of God’s grace). But emotion is, by definition, irrational, and the feelings return unbidden especially at times like these. There’s no point hiding from them. They need to be faced and accepted for what they are—one day at a time. 

I love my hometown and my family of origin in spite of whatever weaknesses we possess. We native Clevelanders and Conways are survivors. When life knocks us down, we get back up and move on, confident that better days are coming and (as my mother always said) hope springs eternal.