Every once in a while something goes “haywire” with the bells in our bell tower.  Even if two of the three bells are still working, it just doesn’t sound right.  Not too long ago the bells failed to ring all together and their sound was missed by many. So, as is my habit when things break around the Church, I called Greg and Denny Werner.  This time Denny took a camera with him.

I didn’t realize that our bells had names.  We have St. John the Baptist, St. Joseph & St. Anthony and Bishop Marion Forst.  I don’t know who named them or why they were named the way they are, but we have bells with names.

This little bit of information conjured up a vague memory buried deep in my brain.  I remember that one of my professors in seminary said something about this… I even think it was within the context of a class.  A class on Liturgy… yes, it’s all coming back to me now.  Well, some of its coming back.

The Catholic Church has a long history of naming bells in church steeples.  Dr. Bayer said a lot on the subject, but most of it was never absorbed into my brain. One thing did strike a chord with me though.  He said that the names given are not merely to remember someone or something as we would name a monument or a memorial.  It’s much more like naming a dog… Dug, for instance.  He said each bell is named in a similar manner that spirits have names.  Each bell has its own unique voice with which to proclaim the glory of God just as each of us, in our unique way of being, are called to proclaim the glory of God with our lives.

Not that we create a living soul within an inanimate object just by naming it.  Only that each bell has a unique voice just as each human has a unique character.   

Each has something to contribute that no one else can.  Each gives glory to God as no other is capable of doing.

So, if the sound of a bell is missed when it doesn’t sound, how much more are we as individuals missed when we fail to give glory to God with our lives.

I looked and looked for the canine version of "American Gothic", but had no success. So, I had to settle for a copy of the original. As an aside note, I think the guy looks like Fr. Meitl (my pastor as I grew up in Colby - who, by the way is still alive and in better health than I). The image came to me as we were praying our last novena to St. Isidore. There are a lot of people who consider this pious act of prayer a hokey tradition. Others might call it superstition. Still others might call it some form of idolatry. Honestly, until this year I was not much of a fan of the novena myself. I would hear people say, "let's pray a novena for rain;" as if we were paying homage to a lesser deity who would irrigate our crops if we say the right words. Now, I know that this was not their intention, and that these suggestions for prayer were sincere acts of faith in our living and true God; but to my ears, this practice always smacked of superstition. I have to admit, though, that every time we have prayed the novena since I've been here, it has rained...many times, on the first night. Even with that record, I still wasn't sold. It wasn't until I came to participate in the ritual myself that I became a fan. I sat in the back pew like a good Catholic and joined in the litany of prayers, very much unmoved. Then I listened to the reflections and I was inspired. The author described various stories from the life of St. Isidore and his wife Maria. They were depicted as models for Christian living, and that was good. But the part that hooked me were the reflections that spoke of the dignity of work, stewardship of the soil, works of mercy specific to rural living, and especially the call to family life. These reflections had some depth to them. Yet is wasn't just the admonitions to live as Christ taught us that got me excited. As the evenings of prayer continued, I began to look around at the people gathered for prayer and realized that these too are models of Christian living. I found joy in recognizing a particular goodness in rural living. No longer was the novena just "so that I can get some rain"; rather it had become for me a genuine support and movement toward a holy lifestyle specific to those who live in rural areas. Yep. With the novena to St. Isidore we do pray for rain as well as protection against storms, floods, pests etc., but I recently learned that something much more profound happens when we gather. We open ourselves to a transforming union with Christ and wholeness of life.

I'm in the process of installing an under-ground electric fence for Dug. Until now, I have been keeping him on a long cord tied to an old clothes line when he wanted to stay outside for an hour or so. He never did get very tangled up, but he didn't seem to like being confined to the chain's reach. At times I (and the neighbors) would hear him begging to be freed from his bondage. Lately, when I go out to free him, he grabs the cable and plays with it instead of coming inside. Many times when he chooses not come in, I go back and re-attach him. Soon he won't have to be confined by the chain... he'll just have an electric fence to contend with.

Somtimes we can be the same with God's gift of freedom. We proclaim at Easter that Jesus is risen and has freed us from the bondage of sin! Yet, perhaps we have befriended our habits of sin so much that we forget about freedom and turn back to the enslavements. It is easy to become comfortable with sin.

So, how is your Easter going? Let us not turn back to anything that we left behind during our Lenten journey. Let us enjoy the freedom of being God's children.

Love,

Fr. Ted

On March 9th we celebrate the sacrament of reconciliation as a community of believers.  Much of the time people view this sacrament as something "between me and God", but that is only part of the gift given to us in this sacrament of healing.  It is intended to move us toward forgiviness with each other as well.

 First of all, I encourage everyone to come.  Secondly, I ask you to think of anyone with whom you need to reconcile.  Be praying for that person (or those persons) before you come.  And as we approach the Lord for mercy, take that person (or those persons) with you to God.  Ask God to move these relationships toward healing.

 It's just a suggestion, but remember that our Lord told us to forgive as we are forgiven.

 Love,

 Fr. Ted