Corpus Christi 2018

From Fr. Jude Botelho:

Food for the Journey I traveled to a place in the northern tip of Ireland one night to say Mass for a Prayer Group. It was a wild wintry night and, when the Mass was over, I was anxious to get on the road for home. As I dashed towards the car, I was stopped by an elderly lady, and I wasn't too please at the prospect of having to listen to her tale of pains and aches, while I was impatient to get going. I was very taken aback when she handed me a small boat-shaped basket, filled with triangular sandwiches, with all kinds of fillings. The basket was covered with cling film. "I just thought, Father, you might like to eat those on your journey home." She turned and went back into the church. For once I was stuck for words..! I still have the basket on my desk as I write here now. When I look at it I think of the Eucharist, 'food for the journey.' Jack McArdle in 'And that's the Gospel Truth"

Mothers' Day 2018

# 1: Mother’s sacrificial love: On Sunday, August 16, 1987, Northwest Airlines flight 225 crashed just after taking off from the Detroit Metropolitan Wayne County Airport. One hundred fifty-five people were killed. One survived with injuries: a 4-year-old from Tempe, Arizona, named Cecelia. News accounts say when rescuers found Cecelia they did not believe she had been on the plane. Investigators first assumed Cecelia had been a passenger in one of the cars on the highway onto which the airliner crashed. But when the passenger register for the flight was checked, there was Cecelia's name. "Cecelia survived because, as the plane was falling, Cecelia's mother, Paula Chican, unbuckled her own seat belt, got down on her knees in front of her daughter, wrapped her arms and body around Cecelia, and then would not let her go." She was a real mother. That sounds to me like a metaphor of the love of God. 

Pentecost 2021

From Fr. Tony Kadavil's Collection:

1) The Spirit of God is the melody that energizes the Church: In the last years of his life, the great cellist and conductor Pablo Casals suffered greatly from rheumatoid arthritis and emphysema.  At 90, he was badly stooped, and his head pitched forward; his breathing was labored.  He needed the help of his wife, Marta, to get dressed in the morning.  Marta would then help him shuffle into his studio where he would, with great difficulty, arrange himself on the piano bench.