A Homecoming Story

Yesterday, I wrote a short piece on death. The reason death was on my mind was because after I wrote the piece I drove to my old parish church to a funeral for a dear lady named Emily. You would have liked Emily, everybody did. She was a fixture at Our Lady of Humility Church.  She had a smile for everyone and invested her life in the service of others. Her passing ended an era at my old church and it would not have been right for me not to take notice of her passing.  So, my wife and I drove the half hour that took us to our old parish and in some respects back in time and back home. 

For me, although my current parish is as comfortable for me as an old pair of bluejeans, it was like stepping back into time. When I moved with my friend Jim into Beach Park Illinois back in the 1980's I owned and operated the Bonzi Maru which was my green Toyota Corolla. The car was purchased used and had all of the amenities.  A super powered AM radio, Crank 'em up manual windows and locks and the popular 460 model air conditioning system which was simple to operate.  Roll down all four windows and do 60 miles per hour to cool down your car on those hot summer days.  It was a car not for the faint of heart.  It hated making left-hand turns for some reason.  Often, when you turned left, the car would sputter and die.  I got very good at dropping the Maru into neutral and getting the engine back online and completing the turn as if this is how a car was supposed to work. I did try and plan my trips to include the fewest number of left-hand turns possible.  I could get to Our Lady of Humility and get home again by making all right-hand turns.  The other church in the area required at least two left-hand turns to get to so it was OLH for me. 

When I walked into this country-style church, I remembered that someone greeted me and made me feel welcome, something that had never happened at St. Andrew's church in the city where over ten years I got to know exactly zero parishioners.  When I entered OLH to say goodbye to Emily I remembered the altar had once been in the south and the pews were upholstered in  McDonalds Orange.  This was the church where Mary and I had our civil union blessed and made into a sacrament.  It is where Mary and I exercised our ministry bringing communion to the cancer patients in the hospital in Zion.  Where I was the leader of the Bible study for several years and where Mary and I met.  Then, of course, there were the people.  We are all older now, but the personalities are still there. It was truly a homecoming.  

This is the church that taught me what Church was.  The church is so much more than a place to worship, or at least I think it should be. A church is an oasis in the desert where Christians can find refreshment and encouragement from the magisterium in the form of your pastor and from one another.  It is here that we hear the Word of God preached to us and we learn practical ways to take it from the pew to the world that needs what we have.  

So, for me, this funeral was something of a homecoming. I felt welcome and comfortable in this place.  But I knew that it was no longer my home.  My home now is St. Mary of Vernon parish in Indian Creek Illinois.  But what I have brought to my new home was instilled in me at my old home and for that, I am forever grateful. 

To all my friends at OLH thank you for the warm welcome you gave me yesterday. When I was with you, you shared your strength, your love, your power with me. Whatever I am today in this One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church, it was the energy and love that you shared with me that got me started.  I will always be with you in my heart and I thank you for all that you have done for me.