Brotherly Love
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Corpus Christi Parish
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A friend of me once told me that every day you have to find something good that happens to get you through the day, even if it is the mere fact that your shoes didn't get untied. Contrary to such sunny thoughts, she was not an optimist. She believed the world was out to get her and most of life was misery, so you had to hold on to little things to fight back.
Her wisdom does play out in the nature of pilgrimage. A good pilgrim will find God's glory every day on the journey, the ray of sunshine that raises the soul to ineffable awe, the stranger who acts with a kindness not becoming of this harsh world, or the magnificent cathedral lifting up hope with the ascent of towering ceilings. Everyday, look for God.
One thinks one will find God in the unfamiliar, the place not yet seen. How shocked was I today when I discovered that the most sacred destination today was not the relics of St. Crescent. My holiest hour was not in walls of Corpus Christ parish at Mass. The house I had been to many times before, was my shrine, my conversation (over too much wine) was my prayer, and my blessing was being found in the holiness that is family in my brother's home.
This is not to say that my brother's family is perfect or "holy". Ask anyone of my other siblings and they will tell you the numerous ways that my brother has failed, in truth or by mere assumption that he can usually screw up anything if he tries hard enough. But being in the presence of my brother and his family was sacred, was holy.
We often take such relationships for granted, but today I find that I cannot. The whole mission of this pilgrimage is to promote the Church's teaching on solidarity. It is fanciful concept with many eloquent writers who have penned fantastic ideas about what solidarity means. For the Church, it begins with one simple concept. An ancient myth tells us the truth behind the legend that Cain killed Able. When this happened, God came to Cain and asked about Able to which Cain replied, "Am I my brother's keeper?" There was no answer. The question was rhetorical. Of course! I am my brother's keeper! I am responsible for those around me!
So on a pilgrimage of solidarity, I first stopped at my brothers house. I may not always be his actual keeper, but the sanctity of family that makes us eternally brothers, serves as a metaphor for how we ought to live towards all human beings.
Many have doubted me that I could make this journey. Some because they thought it was too big of an adventure and could never be planned, others because it needed to be bigger and better planned. In the face of criticism and doubt, I would often go back to what my brother said to me about a year ago. He said, "As sure as I know that you are my brother, I know you will make this journey." Being with him reminded me once again of the power of family. I go forth from his house not arrogant, but strengthened by the sacredness of a holy relationship. We are all brothers and sisters to each other and this gives us the strength to live with passion and purpose. It is because of my brother that I know I can go forth. It is because of brotherhood that I go forth to witness to solidarity, the sacredness of both shrine and household.
Her wisdom does play out in the nature of pilgrimage. A good pilgrim will find God's glory every day on the journey, the ray of sunshine that raises the soul to ineffable awe, the stranger who acts with a kindness not becoming of this harsh world, or the magnificent cathedral lifting up hope with the ascent of towering ceilings. Everyday, look for God.
One thinks one will find God in the unfamiliar, the place not yet seen. How shocked was I today when I discovered that the most sacred destination today was not the relics of St. Crescent. My holiest hour was not in walls of Corpus Christ parish at Mass. The house I had been to many times before, was my shrine, my conversation (over too much wine) was my prayer, and my blessing was being found in the holiness that is family in my brother's home.
This is not to say that my brother's family is perfect or "holy". Ask anyone of my other siblings and they will tell you the numerous ways that my brother has failed, in truth or by mere assumption that he can usually screw up anything if he tries hard enough. But being in the presence of my brother and his family was sacred, was holy.
We often take such relationships for granted, but today I find that I cannot. The whole mission of this pilgrimage is to promote the Church's teaching on solidarity. It is fanciful concept with many eloquent writers who have penned fantastic ideas about what solidarity means. For the Church, it begins with one simple concept. An ancient myth tells us the truth behind the legend that Cain killed Able. When this happened, God came to Cain and asked about Able to which Cain replied, "Am I my brother's keeper?" There was no answer. The question was rhetorical. Of course! I am my brother's keeper! I am responsible for those around me!
So on a pilgrimage of solidarity, I first stopped at my brothers house. I may not always be his actual keeper, but the sanctity of family that makes us eternally brothers, serves as a metaphor for how we ought to live towards all human beings.
Many have doubted me that I could make this journey. Some because they thought it was too big of an adventure and could never be planned, others because it needed to be bigger and better planned. In the face of criticism and doubt, I would often go back to what my brother said to me about a year ago. He said, "As sure as I know that you are my brother, I know you will make this journey." Being with him reminded me once again of the power of family. I go forth from his house not arrogant, but strengthened by the sacredness of a holy relationship. We are all brothers and sisters to each other and this gives us the strength to live with passion and purpose. It is because of my brother that I know I can go forth. It is because of brotherhood that I go forth to witness to solidarity, the sacredness of both shrine and household.