A funeral of sorts

Please pardon my divergence from the normal routine, but today isn't really a normal day.

This weekend was a funeral.  Though it really should have come as no surprize, the shock of seeing things laid out was still pretty hard.  I know that I'll recover after a day or so..."Cows need milking", as Momma Cecil would say.  Life is for the living and grieving, though important, has it's place and needs to stay there.

After 6 years together, my partner and I are no more.  I know that Father has a plan and this must be part of it.  That's mighty hard to see right now.  I just see a large part of my dreams, desires and small hopes lying in a casket.  I know that tomorrow will be better.  But I live in today.

When we buried Momma Cecil, Daddy Cecil (a baptist preacher of over 50 years) said to me that funerals aren't about the dead, but rather about those who are left behind.  What happens when you're both?

Christ the pilot

On ships, both today and in years gone past, the helmsmen steers the ship and normally needs minimal direction to keep her on course.

In particularly trecherous waters or areas known to have dangerous weather, a local pilot is brought on board to help guide the ship through the troubled waters.  No matter how experienced a helmsman you may be, without a pilot to guide you, the raging sea can overwhelm the ship.

Just a light touch on the shoulder, a reassuring gaze or a quick reminder as to the course is all that is needed.  A good pilot knows when to guide and when to let the helm mind itself.  Further, it is not the pilot who steers, but advises and provides guidance.  The ship, and it's fate, still lies in the hands of the helmsman.

"Welcome back aboard, Sir.  I'm glad you're with me."

Double whammy for Tim

There's a lot going on here under the hood, so you'll excuse if things seem disjointed. Today is the feast day of Saint Timothy and the epistle reading below is from the beginning of second Timothy.

"Paul, an Apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God for the promise of life in Christ Jesus, to Timothy, my dear child: grace, mercy, and peace from God the Father and Christ Jesus our Lord.
 ...
I remind you to stir into flame the gift of God that you have through the imposition of my hands.  For God did not give us a spirit of cowardice but rather of power and love and self-control."

According to legend, Timothy was called by God when he was a teenager, was an exceptionally apt pupil when it came to learning texts and became an intimate friend of Paul, who refers to Timothy as a son. Paul give 'his son' the following advice.

"Prescribe and teach these things. Let no one look down on your youthfulness, but rather in speech, conduct, love, faith and purity, show yourself an example of those who believe. Until I come, give attention to the public reading of Scripture, to exhortation and teaching. Do not neglect the spiritual gift within you, which was bestowed on you through prophetic utterance with the laying on of hands by the presbytery. Take pains with these things; be absorbed in them, so that your progress will be evident to all. Pay close attention to yourself and to your teaching; persevere in these things, for as you do this you will ensure salvation both for yourself and for those who hear you." (I Tim. 4)

So?

So, my first name is Timothy, who heard the call of God when I was a teenager.  Yes, I'm pretty keen with a book.  All of those things struck me when I heard the reading above at mass.  I've read scripture for a long time, but hearing it said in another persons' voice, especially brother Les' mellifluous and sonorous baritone, is different.  More to the point, unlike most any other reading, that was to me..personally...My name.  "Timothy, my dear child."  It felt as if there was nobody else there.

That's when I knew the door had closed.  I can't just sit in the pews...mumble through the forms...just be a 'good guy' and average parishoner.  What kind of formal orders (or if they are even necessary) doesn't matter, but that Call...that Voice...I cannot ignore it.