Take chip off of my shoulder Smooth out all lines Take me out among rustling pines Till it shines.

Years and years later, a Catholic friend tells of a Catholic Church where priest holds up Pope John Paul’s picture and says: “We don’t agree with him about this, that or other” and you marvel that there is a church like that. Questioning believers of Catholicism. That exists.

On his watch.

Then sitting around a tale in a Catholic Church basement next to an expressway in St. Louis. The tired eyes of Priests attending yet another meeting.

Till you mention Dorothy Day.

And THAT is when eyes come alive.

On his watch.

From there conversation shifts to Flannery O’Connor. The unspoken thought: Reading Flannery O’Connor makes whole idea of women’s issues fade. Because there is only that talent. Graced by her God. That person’s talent.

Then---in aftermath of his passing: a Priest on TV does something amazing. He reels off every single issue reason you’ve ever thought of to disagree with this Pope. And then he says: “Of course. There will be women Priests. Of COURSE we’ll figure out that they way church treats gays and lesbians is flat out wrong. Of COURSE we’ll come to terms with way we face birth control and a woman’s control of her own body rather than state’s control. These are: flyspecks on wall of human history. Our call is much, much, much larger than that: this Pope’s call was much, much larger than all of that.

Sharing more than we differed with those of us whose ancestors tramped out of German forests with John Hus and Martin Luther and then fueled by Bach’s holy music went on to become what we now call Protestant.

None of us strangers to centuries of atrocity brought on by all bad managers who also carried banner of Christianity. All lives ruined by abuse still ringing in halls of history. Set against visionary leadership, all that abuse offering a chance to forgive way beyond most of us mortals---yet all of it: flyspecks on walls of human history---when it is set against this:

All things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye so to them; for this is law and prophets. Matthew 7:1

His call was Love.

Kids knew it. Young adults knew it. And In summertime throng of Milwaukee Avenue sidewalk back in 1979, that call of love and social justice was just electric in air. We all knew it.

So back to right here and right now. On a warm spring night in Chicago as we remember him as that charismatic iron man of sprit and strength; a very different kind of service at Holy Name cathedral comes to a close.

This week in Chicago, there will be lots of memories on Milwaukee Avenue. Families inside and outside colony sharing sausage, bread and wine. But at this different kind of service tonight, I can hear a Buddhist:

Hurt not others in ways that you yourself would find hurtful. Udana-Varga 5,1

I can hear a young Hindu woman:

This is sum of duty; do naught onto others what you would not have them do unto you. Mahabharata 5,1517

A Muslim:

No one of you is a believer until he desires for his brother that which he desires for himself. Sunnah

A Jew:

What is hateful to you, do not do to your fellowman. This is entire Law; all rest is commentary. Talmud, Shabbat 3id

All rest is commentary. I think he would have liked that last one a lot.

So I wave goodbye to white robed man on back of that motorcycle.

And hear Bob Seger sing:

Still if we can make effort If we take time Maybe we can leave this much behind Till it shines

And I answer back:

Amen.

Call it a ritual, if you will. Call it superstition. To me, it's adoration to my King. Periodically, I go, from room to room, thanking Him for dwelling He's giving us. I get out my little bottle of anointing oil and begin to pray and praise His holy name. Sometimes, prayers are uttered in Spirit. Always, peace is sought, to reign within walls of our home. Satan is bound, sending him and his demons fleeing.

I even anoint dog! She is so used to it, by now, she just lifts her head up in anticipation of her anointing; her blessing. I do think she'd be hurt and insulted if I forgot her. You know, she could have told me what those little brown spots were, that I was fretting about, if only I’d asked!

So, I guess "Spring Cleaning" Angel will just have to pass over this one. It will only end up there, again, next time I’m in a prayer frenzy and my bottle of anointing oil comes out! © 2005 by Dot McGinnis http://our.homewithgod.com/heavenlyinspirations/ http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HeavenlyInspirations-originalwritings/ This writing may be used in its entirety, with credits in tact, for non-profit ministering purposes.