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November 27
St. Mary’s Cathedral, St. Cloud
After an early morning Herceptin infusion, I was excited to attend noon Mass in the Cathedral, but Scott and I noticed other people gathering in the lower level of the super-sized church and followed. The chapel there was built for daily Mass apparently. The gospel for the day,Luke 21:12-19, deals with religious persecution: “You will be hated by all because of my name, but not a hair on your head will be destroyed. By your perseverance you will secure your lives.” In relation, Father Jose Chettoor stressed “living authentic faith in public” and to be aware of serious threats to religious freedom as it becomes more difficult to “uphold values as we are relegated to more private religious relationships.” He used his childhood in India where he yearned for plurality as a minority due to his christian faith to stress that “it is never easy in any culture to speak confidently and morally follow the Gospel. It takes supernatural strength and courage to stand up for our faith.” He preached a message promising that God’s faith will make us endure and so long as we remain faithful until death, He will give us everlasting life.
It reminded me of hearing the author of The Von Trapp Family Singers–the basis for The Sound of Music— Maria von Trapp, speaking at the College of St. Benedict. I was only in second grade, but I completely understood her message of holding fast to freedoms and not to take our liberties for granted. I was star-struck at meeting her, a stout woman in a dirndl with her long braids encircling her head. (Julia Andrews’ short haircut was so out of place to me in the movie.)
My Joys: Mack and Ben
I had such vivid memories of my childhood. As a mother, I wondered what my boys remembered and held dear.
After church detention was a thing I invented. We usually attended the earliest Mass or we told the kids it was the first Mass with the threat of repeating Mass if they were naughty. One Sunday when Scott had to work, I had the boys solo when their antics proved too much. I whispered sharply to them that we needed to make up some time in silent prayer after Mass. As the parishioners streamed out, nearly all gestured for us to get in line before them, the boys hung their heads, and I shook mine but eventually the church emptied out. The young hip organist passed us and abruptly backed up, “Hey, guys, wanna play the organ?” I could not say no. I wanted to play the organ too. I had barely nodded when they bolted out of the pew and dashed upstairs. The cacophony was intense, almost matching their level of glee. I played a few bars of J.S. Bach’s Solfeggietto I had memorized then we left. The next Sunday when the boys seemed all too eager to go to Mass, we had to admonish them in advance, reading their devious minds hoping to earn more detention.
Scott and I always marveled at how unique the boys were. Ben won people over in his own way. On our first family vacation to Cancun, Scott sat by Mack on the