Farewell my friend

I write these words with a heavy heart, after receiving word of the passing of my good friend, Tim Bannes.  

So many of you in the Holy Infant community have experienced first hand the selfless love, and tireless devotion of this man.  Each of you have your own memories and stories.  Here are a few of mine….

As a volunteer of the Youth Ministry program, I got to spend a lot of time with Father Bannes.  I remember watching him slowly walk the parking lot with one of our teens, hearing confession.  We would go up to Mulligans every week after Life Nights.  We would always dare him to eat a cup of mayonnaise or finish a double bogey.  He was there on float trips, fall retreats, and earned the nickname Padre Skio when we took 100 kids up to Winter Park, Colorado.

I saw early on, that he was always the last one to eat.  The last one to bed, always staying late to clean up.  When something needed attending to, he was just there.  It was such a great comfort.

As he spent more time with our family, my children got to see that priests are regular people.  They would run to the door when “Fruncle Bannes” would arrive.  He would put food in and then back out of his mouth at dinner, or burp and play “Guess what I ate!”  He was the first priest they ever really knew.   He took my son and I to Bennett Springs and helped Joey catch his first trout.  He would come by for Halloween dressed as Shaggy from Scooby Doo or Spock from Star Trek.  He blessed our home.  Served an intimate mass for our 20th wedding anniversary.

Lisa took spiritual direction from him, sometimes talking in his messy office for hours.  Never feeling rushed.  Never giving the impression that he needed to be anywhere but there, with you, in that moment.

He shared his most beloved treasure with us.  Medjugore.   As I'm writing this, the community there is grieving with us and dedicating mass to their devote and loving friend.  He’s prayed over us, laughed with us, and cried with us.  

Some priests give amazing homilies.  Some are great confessors.  Others are studied theologians.  Tim was given a unique gift.  One that he used better than anyone I’ve ever met.  He was given the gentle spirit of service and love.  You could see it in his eyes, and feel it when his hands would bless you.   Our family has been forever changed by his ministry, by his example, and by his friendship.

I remember him always laughing when he said, “The sweet release of death.  I pray for it every day.”  Well, my brother, your prayers have been answered.  Until I see you again, Duc in Altum.

The Last shall be ...

Fans, coaches, and officials outlined the recent 6-Flags Cross Country course.  During the final event of the morning, JV girls raced the two-lap circuit.  As I watched near the midpoint, race leaders lapped one particular contestant.  The rain-saturated course challenged even the best plodding the muddy trenches worn into the sod from earlier repetitive races.  While the majority of the competitors completed their second lap to the checkered finish, one girl running on short, slightly contorted legs veered along the left fork splashing onto the second half of the course … alone….

            Time elapsed … so much so that individual and team scores were posted.  I camped near the finish as a once exuberant, cheering crowd straggled away.  I searched two long stretches … no more athletes.  I began to walk to another stretch of the course to intersect the path of a grandparent. 

            “I thought there was one more girl yet to finish?”  I invited a conversation.

            “The little girl with cerebral palsy?”  His smile welcomed a fellow fan.  “She run with your school?”

            “No. I thought she might have been with your school.”  My tone begged to know his allegiance.  “I saw her earlier.  Figured she’d be close by now.”

            “No, I don’t know this girl.  My granddaughter runs for Liberty, north of Kansas City.  She’s a nice athlete and I enjoy cheering her forward, but she’ll never run for Liberty’s varsity.  They’re deep in strong runners.  I know when I was her age, I couldn’t have competed with the determination she has.”  He obviously took great pride traveling the length of the state to support his granddaughter.   

            “Liberty sure has large numbers, a very successful program,” I complimented.

            “Yes.  They’re good every year.”  He spoke of matter of fact.  “Same man been coaching them for thirty-two years.  Good man.  Lots of good kids.”

            I glanced back to where colorful streamers once marked the finish.  The host timing crew with Maryville University packed the finish tent away.  They secured the electronic scoring system, cords, and displays into cases and stowed them in vans.  They rolled and stored the checkered flags in overhead bins.  Only a remnant, a muddy soup pooled where the day’s athletes finished to record another competition to history.

            Various teams were loading on busses.  The timing crew and officials drove away.  Those remaining scattered like cattle in small herds across the plain. 

“I imagine her coach probably pulled her off the course.”  I referenced the girl with the crooked legs.  “Not only is it long, but the rain and previous races have reduced it to a sloppy obstacle ….”  

            “Oh, no!”  the Liberty fan interrupted.  “She’ll finish.”  Determination in my elder’s voice anticipated her appearance.  “She has a lot of heart.  She runs for a school somewhere in our area.  Not sure where, but I’ve seen her run before.” 

            We were not to be denied as a mud splattered, exhausted athlete emerged from towering bramble into the final clearing.  She negotiated mud trenches and pools for grassy shoulders.  A handful of athletes from a few different teams darted around her like bees inspiring one with stricken legs to press forward, to finish the race.  We, too, channeled words of encouragement walking beside her to a final over-arching curve. 

            … and as we turned, to face the final straight-away out of the curve, an enormous Liberty squad had reformed an alley, ... the finish, ... yelling, chanting, clapping.  Though not a teammate, they cheered the final athlete … home.

            If anyone had any reason to pack early and hit the road, it was Liberty.  If they were not the most distant team to travel to the event, they were close to it.  Remember the elder’s granddaughter?  She and so many, many more like her were winners that day and will be on many more occasions to come! 

Fortunately, I saw the girl running with short crippled legs win her own race, one I could not run or experience with her, but I witnessed her victory and celebrated with her. 

Individuals and organizations cutting corners, … greed, destruction of human life and relationships, … corruption, abusive power, legal deception … all taunt us to be on top.  And yet, events such as what I witnessed on an overcast Saturday are like a flower breaking through the crease of a sidewalk or a tree growing out of stone. 

            “The last shall be first and the first shall be last.”  Matthew 20:16

At this particular meet on this day, Liberty claimed the team championships in every event, boys and girls, varsity and junior varsity.  They may not collect metal for the mantle everywhere they compete, but I imagine many win in life everywhere they run!!!

             

A Single Issue Voter

By Fred Vilbig

I think that most everyone would agree that if is wrong to kill an innocent person against his or her will. This definition is broad enough to allow for both capital punishment and for assisted suicide. I am opposed to both of those, but I want to start with a definition that is broad enough to encompass almost everyone’s understanding of murder.

This definition, though, raises the question about what is a person. We as human beings are an interesting lot. We are not just a physical body or a spiritual soul. We are a composite of the two, an en-souled body. It is pretty clear that the body is not the soul and the soul is not the body.

The reality of the difference between the soul and the body was brought home to me at the funeral of a young woman who died of cancer. They had only discovered the cancer when her C-section hadn’t healed properly. Her beautiful daughter was only a few months old, and there the mother was lying in her coffin.

The funeral home had done a great job. The mom looked great. I kept expecting her to open her eyes and say something, but of course, she didn’t.

In looking at her, I thought about the fact that before she was prepared for burial, all of the physical, biological requirements for life had been present. She had all of her tissues. She had all of her blood. She had all of her DNA and all of the other building blocks for life - except she was dead. She was missing something.

What she was missing, of course, was that spark of life – the animating principle of all living things. She was missing her soul. But the question is, what exactly is a soul?

A Prayer for the 2016 General Election

II Chronicles 7:14
“If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, will heal their land”.

Last month I had the opportunity to write about the sin of judgement, and the special, unprecedented challenges our national election is presenting me. Regardless of who you are supporting and where you align yourself politically we can at least agree on the importance of character and of maintaining our Christian and Catholic position of discipline and virtue. Please do not rely on a single source of information for making decisions in this key election as they have already taken sides. You must do the digging. Read everything you possibly can. More importantly, talk with the young voters in your family and express the importance of being an informed voter. They do not have your wealth of life experiences and the intellectual maturity to understand all that is at stake. Ask them what they think and why? Listen, and then patiently explain what your experience has shown. You may have to agree to disagree. Decisions they make on November 8th will remain with them and our country the rest of their lives, long after we are gone. Everything is at stake: the economy and jobs, security, and frighteningly our very Constitution including religious challenges. Each election we hear it proclaimed that this is the most important election in generations. Well my brothers, I agree with them. 

To this end I offer you readers this prayer and hope it guides you and the other voters in your family.