On a number of occasions parishioners, noticing that several deacons are listed in our Parish Bulletin as "senior deacons," have asked me, "What does a deacon have to do to become a senior deacon?" I think they assume the title must be conferred as a reward for some great accomplishment. When I tell them that seniority among deacons is strictly a function of age, they seem both surprised and disappointed. In other words, for a deacon to become a senior deacon he must have been born 75 years ago and still be able to fog a mirror. And today, for the very first time, I qualify.
I was born in the midst of World War II, just a few months after D-Day. But for my mom and dad a more immediate concern was the Great Atlantic Hurricane of 1944 which reached its peak intensity as a category 4 on, you guessed it, September 13. A few days later it roared through coastal New York, Connecticut, and Rhode Island making things a bit difficult for my mom. I don't know the details, but I can confirm that she made it to the hospital -- St. Vincent Hospital in Bridgeport, Connecticut -- and I was the result.
I've been enjoying the clear pre-dawn mornings as Maddie and I take our dalily walk through our neighborhood. She tends to look downward so she can revisit the smells of the recent past. But I look upward and revisit the sights of a much more distant past. This morning I noticed that Betelgeuse, a red giant star in Orion, was particularly bright. At over 600 light years away, the orange dot we see is the result of light that began its journey at the end of the 14th century. I once read that Betelgeuse is one of those relatively short-lived stars -- only a few million years old -- that might well go supernova (i.e., explode) sometime during the next 1,000 years or so. Indeed, it could already have done so, but the visible effects simply haven't reached us yet. One astronomer wrote that this would be a truly spectacular sight, one that would rival the full moon in its brightness. By the way, Betelgeuse is so large, that if it replaced our sun, it would fill our solar system all the way out to Jupiter and perhaps even beyond. In other words, Earth would be inside this massive star, not a good place to be. Indeed, this star is so big I believe it's the only star (other than our sun) that we've been able to photograph and actually see its disk.
 |
| Betelgeuse compared to our solar system |
I've long believed that God's gift of the universe helps us see our own lives more clearly. How wonderful that the God who created this magnificent universe has a personal and deep love for every person He has created. So often we get so wrapped up in the earthly problems that plague us, we think that only we can solve them, that we must solve them ourselves. Either we never consider asking God for help, or we assume He can't be bothered to deal with our petty concerns. But that's not how God is. The fact that He sent His Son to become one of us, to offer His life for us, is proof enough of His deep love for every human person. This is why it's good to look up at His universe every so often, just to remind ourselves how great God truly is. His Creation gives us a glimpse of His infinite power, something far beyond anything we can even imagine. God can handle anything. We need only ask.
Today I received a few pleasant and unexpected birthday phone calls, text messages, and emails...even a few snail-mail cards. The first call was from a Naval Academy classmate (1967), Buddy Barnes, whom I've probably seen only once or twice since we completed Naval flight training back in 1968. How kind of Buddy to call. We ended up talking for a good half-hour, just telling stories about our common experiences and the people we both knew way back when. Buddy left the Navy to fly for American Airlines and like most of us is now retired. He hopes to visit us here in Florida next year. It will be good to see him again.
I also received calls from my two sons, Ethan and Brendan, and from my daughter, Erin, who was joined by four of her five children as they serenaded me with a peppy "Happy Birthday." The grandchildren all seemed surprised to learn how old I was...not a good sign. Young Eddie, however, was kind enough to say, "Well. Papa, you don't look that old."
I intend to goof off this evening and trust all who read these words also give thanks for the blessings they have received.
No comments:
Post a Comment