August 2000

Dear Parish Family:

Much has been given to us to ponder, with the passing of two members of our parish family, George Heaps, and Aggie Austin. July was not an easy month, with hospitalizations and deaths. Thankfully, it is our loss, and not theirs. We know that both George and Aggie are in a place where suffering is a thing of the past, God’s joy is with them, their reward is complete. At times like this lots of questions come up for us, about the mystery of life, it would be great if we had all the answers but we don’t.

There is a popular "Salsa" songwriter from Panama who is very introspective. His name is Ruben Blades. I enjoy his music very much, especially his most recent work titled "Tiempos" ("seasons," as in there is a season for joy and a season for sadness, etc.). There is a track on the album titled "Vida" ("Life") that goes something like this:

"No one chooses their family or their race when they are born; no one chooses whether they will be rich or poor, good or bad, courageous or a coward. We are born from a decision, in which we were never consulted, and no one guarantees results. When we are born we don’t even know the name we will be given nor what our path will be, nor what the future hides. Between our baptism and our burial each one makes their own path, and with their decisions, their own destiny... …Life is a door through which we enter, and we are not charged admission, and the soul is the ticket stub that is torn when we leave… …Every step creates a footprint, and every footprint is a story, and every yesterday a star in the sky of our memory…"

Then the really hopeful part comes: "I dream of a different kind of world, where our love never ends… ...If the white bones of a person can belong to a person of any race, if death dos not discriminate, then life should not discriminate either… …Fight for a different kind of world, where our love never ends…"

I don’t know exactly why I like this song so much? I don’t know if it’s the Afro-Caribbean percussion and rhythms I’ve always heard since my childhood, or the deep introspection of the song writer, all I know is that the song has a quality of truth to it, and anyone who is on the journey of life, who has bothered to take a look at life, and doesn’t just meander around with no sense of direction, can relate to the lyrics. When death comes knocking at our door, we pause to think. We think of the love, we think of the loss, we think of the bewilderment, our grief, our memories, our loneliness, the tear in our souls. We think about our own lives, how we live our lives, what’s important, what’s not important. Lot’s of stuff comes up, and as Christians we are left to pick up the pieces and rediscover the joy of living in the promise of the resurrection we begin to experience through the gift of community, the Body of Christ. The journey through life is a demanding mystery, much is asked of us, little revealed, wouldn’t it be great if we had all the answers nice and clear, black and white? But we don’t. All we have is a promise that roots itself in our hearts, where it begins to grow, and give fruit. It is a powerful promise that brings hope and transcends our ignorance, it brings peace and a certainty that something wonderful is ahead of us.

As I visited with Aggie, the day before she passed, I sensed she knew the end was near. Did this afflict her? No it did not, she welcomed my prayers, squeezed my hand tightly, and turned herself over to God.

The last meaningful conversation I had with George in the hospital before he passed had a luminous quality to it. I mentioned the words of Dame Julian of Norwich to him: All will be well, and all will be well, and all matter of things will be well." As I left his room, he repeated these words, "all will be well" he knew, regardless of outcome, all would be well.

We lost two wonderful people, by which heaven has expanded. Their gift to us will not be forgotten, and their courage at the hour of their deaths, will also be remembered. We continue with our lives, our parish moves on, welcoming new faces, new lives, the cycle and seasons continue.

Life changes but never ends. Ruben Blades, in another one of his songs tells us that "he or she who has never sinned, has never lived." We all stumble through life, we all sin, we all seek redemption, we all seek to know the face of God, to see it in each other, the beauty of God’s holiness, to make the world a better place, by making real the Kingdom of God. Hope remains, as Desmond Tutu once explained, as Christians "We are prisoners of hope."

I’d like to end this Log Message, with another one of Ruben Blade’s songs -- I only wish everyone reading this could understand Spanish, so you could listen to the song and appreciate it fully on your own. But barring that, I will translate as follows; the name of this song is "Tiempos" (Seasons). I would like this song to be played at my own memorial service someday, when my time comes. It would make a great Offertory Anthem, or Communion Anthem. Enjoy and ponder the lyrics, influenced by the Book of Ecclesiastes:

Life is a footprint of triumphs and failures,

Formed by pieces of love and pain.

Time is a Rosary; memories are its beads,

a garden of sentiments, of what was once lived.

There is a season to laugh, and a season to cry,

A season to depart, and a season to return.

There is a season to live, and another to end,

There is a season to die, and another to begin.

When the hour comes to end my journey,

may my smile reveal that I’ve accepted what I was.

Material things I will leave behind,

All that I take, is all that I learned.

There is a season to think and another to decide.

There is a season to forget and another to understand.

There is a season to win and another to lose.

There is a season to suffer, and there is a season to love.

A season to feel, and another to forgive.

There is a season to live, and a season to end.

There is a season to die, and another to begin…

God’s Peace be With You Always,

Wilfredo Benítez
Rector