Bishop Povish: His Fight With
Cancer
By Ronald Landfair | Photography by James Luning
Most
Rev. Kenneth Povish served from 1975 to 1995 as the third bishop
of Lansing. He is pictured here in his DeWitt home, a condominium
community for retired priests near St. Francis Retreat Center. Behind
him are photos that paint a picture of a life of service to the
Church - from seminary photos to five audiences with the last three
popes.
I figured that I ought to practice
what I preached. I look back to those years when I was in a parish
and six years when I was a full-time teacher. People would have
some tough breaks and I used to tell them things like this: 'You
say the Lord's Prayer every day. Every day you say, "Thy kingdom
come, thy will be done on earth as it is heaven" and it's easy
to say when things are going good. But when things get rough, you
gotta say it, and you gotta mean it: "Thy will be done!"'
I don't know how many people I told that to, so I figured that I
gotta do the same thing.
To
most he is "Bishop Povish" or "Bishop Kenneth."
A rare few simply use his initials: "KJP." The reason
for our meeting was to talk about the sacrament of the sick - more
specifically about the cancer that he was diagnosed with in 1994
and which has now returned. "People are expecting us to be
fairly pithy and insightful," I told him. "Instead of
Tuesdays with Morrie, I think they expect this to be Mondays with
Kenneth or something." He smiled at me with his wide trademark
grin. It's the sort of grin that lets you know he understands -
that he sees the humor, irony and insight of something all at once.
The thought seems to register with him, his smirk turning into a
full-fledged smile. "Well," he replied, "let's do
our best then."
By the sacred anointing of the sick and the prayer of the priests
the whole Church commends those who are ill to the suffering and
glorified Lord, that He may raise them up and save them. And indeed
she exhorts them to contribute to the good of the people of God
by freely uniting themselves to the passion and death of Christ.
Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC) No. 1499
|
His biography reads like the stats
of an All-Star - some categories far too numerous to count.
There are however, some categories which have been newly added,
ones that you would rather skip:
- 1.5 million miles driven as a bishop.
- 3,000 weekly columns written.
- 26 years as bishop of Crookston,
Minn., and Lansing.
- 44 men ordained as priests while
bishop.
- Unknown the number of retreats given.
- Unknown the number of homilies written.
- Unknown number of Masses celebrated.
- Unknown the number of persons he
has inspired.
- Twice told that he has cancer by
his physicians.
- Once, cancerous growths found to
be in remission.
- Once, cancerous growths returned
anew ..
|
"This all started in the summer of 1994, and I've never asked
the question, 'Why me?' Because if I think of all the people who
died of cancer - my father, my maternal grandmother, others in the
family, all the cancer victims I buried as a pastor - I could just
as logically say, 'Why not me?' I just said, 'Lord, help me put
up with this. I'll fight it as long as I can because I'm enjoying
life.'
"I had a colonoscopy in April, followed by 30 radiation treatments
and five chemotherapy treatments. They declared remission that same
year in August of 1994."
Laughingly, Bishop Povish says, "Gosh, after retirement I
made more money than I ever made on the job! I was invited to do
all these missions, all these retreats, all these preaching assignments,
in five different states. My income taxes zoomed up for that period
- not a care in the world.
"I figured if I was going to live longer, I might as well take
care of my eyes so I had cataract surgery. I was getting hard of
hearing, so I went to Michigan State University's Audiology Clinic
and got some hearing aids. And then in January of 2000, I got the
bad news.
"I
was going periodically for X-rays and blood tests to see if everything
was stable. Then, in January of 2000, they told me, 'There are spots
on your liver.' Since then it's been downhill and I haven't been
able to do very much of anything."
At a subsequent appointment with his physician, Bishop Povish was
given three options. "He said, 'We can keep you comfortable.
We can go after this thing with chemotherapy and radiation like
we did before. Or the third option was that we could attack this
thing aggressively with these new things that they have like Radio
Frequency Ablation (RFA) which means going in there with a needle
and burning the tumor out.'"
Over
the course of the next year, he had four RFA treatments. Initially,
it appeared as if the treatments were going to be successful. "But,
every month I went for CAT scans and it (RFA) didn't destroy them
- the tumors grew."
This
year, instead of the RFA treatments, there was a switch to chemo-embolization
treatments - a deliberately placed embolism (or obstruction to an
artery) - to keep poisonous cells out of the liver. "But they're
not working, so my physician began a new regimen of very strong
chemotherapy treatments. I have it two weeks on, with one week of
rest. Then, two more weeks on, with another week of rest."
|
As Bishop Povish's cancer returned,
treatment began. He speaks highly of the care he receives
at the Breslin Cancer Center, Lansing. He goes there for chemo
treatments that often make him feel ill. By the way, the folks
at Breslin speak highly of him, too.
|
Illness and suffering have always been among the gravest problems
confronted in human life. In illness, man experiences his powerlessness,
his limitations, and his finitude. Every illness can make us glimpse
death. CCC No. 1500
I asked Bishop Povish pointedly: "Are you afraid of death?"
"No, I guess I don't fear it," he replied. "How long
have I prayed: 'Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now
and at the hour of our death'? I'm going to have a lot of support!
"I'll say this: I'm not anxious to die, but I'm not afraid
to die either. If it turns out that this stuff isn't going to work,
well, I will face it."
He then laughs and observes, "Really, though, on the days I
feel good, I'm enjoying retirement. And there were those several
years I was on a roll!"
Bishop Povish did admit to a dislike in life. "I don't like
snakes," he pointed out. "I don't like fish, green beans
or mushrooms either! I've never been afraid of walking the streets
of big cities. I don't remember ever really being afraid. I've been
behind the Iron Curtain and wasn't afraid there."
And
there is one regret - that he has not written a book. "The
book was going to be about Lake Huron," the bishop says. "I've
got this book outlined on an audio tape. ... I just don't have the
energy or the ambition to sit down and write it," Bishop Povish
says. Even though his book is on hold, the bishop continues to write
a weekly column for The Catholic Times and The Catholic
Weekly, as well as a monthly column for FAITH Magazine.
"I enjoy writing. I get a kick out of seeing the darn paper
come and there the thing is. I even enjoy getting the mail. And
if you turn this thing off (the tape recorder), I'll go see if I
have any letters from my reading constituency."
His down-to-earth style of writing and no nonsense approach to
life has inspired countless people throughout his "second"
career as a journalist. For a man who has inspired so many, I asked:
"Who inspires you?" "I taught American history for
six years," he said. "It's always been a hobby for me
as I liked history in high school. I've always admired Abraham Lincoln
since childhood. Few men have faced failure as many times in their
lives as he did to ultimately achieve their dream - only to then
face the greatest trial one can imagine: the preservation of the
Union itself!"
Illness can lead to anguish, self-absorption, sometimes even
despair and revolt against God. It can also make a person more
mature, helping him discern in his life what is not essential
so that he can turn toward that which is. Very often illness provokes
a search for God and a return to Him. CCC No. 1501
Even
facing cancer, Bishop Povish admits, is just one more thing "
... in a pretty interesting life. ... I see things now I never saw
before. For instance, in the Liturgy prayers that the priest says
silently to himself - I've said for over 50 years - and finally,
when I got sick, it dawned on me what I was saying. (There are)
two (prayers) before Communion and one afterward. People never hear
them because they are never said out loud. ... They're very simple
prayers but, wow! One of the prayers we say before holy Communion
is, 'Lord, Jesus Christ, with faith in your love and mercy, I eat
your Body and drink your Blood. Let it not bring me condemnation
but health in mind and body.' Boy, I say that one with fervor!
"Then while you're cleaning the cups, the priest recites, 'Lord,
may I receive these gifts with purity of heart. May they bring me
healing and strength now and forever.' I used to say that - even
in Latin for many years - and never paid that much attention to
it. 'May they bring me healing and strength ... '
I didn't feel I needed it - I felt strong - it was just words then,
you know? Now, they are more than just mere words."
"The same thing is true with the Psalms. I read them for
about 45 minutes a day, and they have really come to life because
they were written for every kind of human situation, and they sure
have a wealth of meaning now."
The man of the Old Testament lives his sickness in the presence
of God. It is before God that he laments his illness, and it is
of God, master of life and death, that he implores healing. Illness
becomes a way to conversion; God's forgiveness initiates the healing.
... CCC No. 1502
Bishop
Povish talks in indirect ways about time and about the inevitability
of the twilight of his life. "I figured that I ought to practice
what I preached," he says. "People would have some tough
breaks and I used to tell them things like this: Every day you
say, "Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is
heaven" and it's easy to say when things are going good. But
when things get rough, you gotta say it, and you gotta mean it:
"Thy will be done!"' I don't know how many people I told
that to, so I figured that I gotta do the same thing. Therefore,
when they told me in 1994 that ... 'you had a cancer in the colon
and we removed it,' I thought, 'Well golly, I gotta practice what
I preach.'
"Sickness has helped my prayer life enormously. I am also much
more tolerant of elderly people and sickly people. I used to get
so in a hurry, when old people would have to walk upstairs with
a cane and you're behind them ... or you're in a line and you're
behind them in the grocery store and they're looking around for
change, and they can't remember things and so on ... well, now that
I'm getting like that myself, instead of cussing under my breath,
I'm saying a prayer for those people. My outlook has changed so
much. I can't help but think of how lucky I am. My dad lasted three
years with cancer. My grandmother was quite a gal - a real heroine
- and she never complained until she was practically dead. I don't
know how long she suffered. She died back in the '40s when they
didn't have all this stuff to fight cancer with. I just consider
myself lucky in so many ways.
"I have been very fortunate and very blessed. When all is said
and done, and I look forward since 1994, I've been lucky. And if
you want to put it all on the supernatural level, I've clearly been
blessed."
Amused by the reflection, he chuckles, "Of course, if you say
that to some people, they think you are a phony."
Postscript: When I first arrived at the retired priests'
condominiums on the grounds of St. Francis Retreat Center in DeWitt,
I realized that I wasn't quite sure which one was KJP's. There were
no names on the mailboxes to designate them, and I didn't want to
keep him waiting. I asked the Holy Spirit to help me find him, and
laughed inwardly at the thought of such a silly request. I parked
my car, got out and just stood still for a moment taking in my surroundings.
I realized at once which unit KJP was in and walked up and rang
the doorbell. That familiar smiling face appeared at the now opened
door. I said to him, "I really didn't know which one you were
in!"
"How did you find me then?" he asked.
"Well to be honest, I asked the Spirit for help, and He guided
me here because when I looked at the cars in the carports, I noticed
that one car had more rust on the license plate than any of the
others!"
KJP laughed, invited me in and said, "You know, Ron, the Spirit
never retires."
Bishop Povish on the best decision he ever made
It
was becoming a priest. I wavered at one point. It kept coming back
to me. I wanted to be a priest when I was a little kid. I remember
praying my last prayer at night, 'May God bless me, and make me
a priest.' I was under the influence of two very pious grandmothers.
They both urged me to tell the nuns I wanted to be an altar boy.
So I did, and they were very proud and very pleased.
Once
I got to be an altar boy, my mother's mother said to me, 'Wouldn't
you like to do what Father does?' And I said, 'Yes, I think I would.'
So the nuns found out about it, and they pressed me pretty hard.
I quit Catholic school at the end of the sixth grade and went, instead,
to public school where they wouldn't bug me so much. I went to public
high school where I dated three or four different girls. I think
that both of my grandmothers kind of gave up at that point, but
they kept praying.
At any rate, when I was in the 11th grade I went to the high school
counselor and he was pestering me and said, 'Young man, what are
you going to do with your life? You get A's - you shouldn't be taking
these shop courses. You ought to be taking all college prep subjects.
You ought to know right now what college you want to go to!' In
those days, people from all the local state colleges and universities
would come to Alpena because we were the largest high school in
northern Michigan. They were trying to get me to go to one school
or another, and kept asking, 'What do you want to do with your life?'
They gave me these tests and drew a chart. 'You should either be
a teacher or a lawyer.'
During
Lent of my junior year, they were still pressing me about it. So
I went to see my pastor and I showed him this graph that showed
my strong points and me becoming either a lawyer or a teacher. He
picked it up and threw it in his wastebasket! He looked at me and
said, 'I have been waiting for you to come back here and talk to
me about this! You ought to be in a seminary and you know it!' This
was the same priest I used to serve for as an altar boy! He told
me to go home and talk to my parents. He gave me a copy of a seminary
catalog and said, 'Tell your parents you're going to go to seminary
in the fall and let me know what they think.'
When I got home, my parents were sitting and listening to the radio.
I said, 'I went to see Fr. Bouchard tonight. We had a long talk
and I decided that I'm going to seminary in the fall.'
My father looked at me and said only one word, 'You???'
I used to stay out late at night and he knew I was seeing these
different girls. I was kind of wild. That was all he had to say.
Karen may be homebound
but her impact reaches far & wide
By Elizabeth Johnson | Photography by Christine Jones
Karen
Paavola ministers quietly from her Flint home. You might not think
Karen could do much in the way of ministry. After all, the 51-year-old
woman is unable to use her hands or legs and she is legally blind.
But those limitations don't keep her from praying for others every
day, or from cheering others up with her positive attitude toward
life.
"I don't look at the things I can't do. I just do the
best I can with God's help," says Karen, a parishioner at St.
Pius Church, Flint. "I don't really think about praying. I
just do it all the time." According to her friend, Jean Haines,
"If you want anything, ask Karen to pray for it."
Paavola and Haines belong to the Victorious Missionaries, a spiritual
group that was founded on the premise that the best people to minister
to people with disabilities are other people with disabilities.
The VMs, as they call themselves, provide spiritual support for
all people with disabilities or who are chronically ill. The group
includes the elderly, the homebound, the mentally retarded, and
the physically disabled. Those who can get out and about serve in
their parishes as readers and Eucharistic ministers, or visit nursing
homes and put on retreats for people with retardation. Those who
are homebound minister by praying for others, sending birthday cards
to people in nursing homes and group residences, or by stuffing
envelopes for the organization's mailings.
"Some
people don't think the handicapped have anything to offer. I think
they're wrong," notes Karen, who became disabled 30 years ago
as the result of complications from surgery. "God put everyone
here for a reason, and that reason is to help other people. VMs
are needed people - we're needed by the handicapped and the able-bodied."
Jean, who has multiple sclerosis, says that Paavola's positive
attitude is a ministry unto itself. "It's impossible to
feel sorry for yourself when you talk to Karen," she explains.
"She helps you to see that God has a purpose for your life
and you should be thankful to Him for all the gifts He's given you.
She helps people to see what's truly important in life."
Karen says that because she doesn't act like a "poor me"
person, other people don't look at her that way, either. "I
thank God for my life," she says. "I never wonder why
He let this happen to me. God gives you what you can handle.
I don't think anybody else in my family could do this, but then,
I couldn't do what they do, either."
Noting that many people feel uncomfortable interacting with
the homebound and people with disabilities, Karen offered a bit
of advice that has helped her as she ministers to others.
"I'm legally blind, so I can't see a person. I don't know
what anybody looks like, so I can accept them for who they are on
the inside," she says. "You have to remember that God
loves everybody, and God made everybody, regardless of what they
look like. If you can get beyond being afraid of appearances, it's
easy to love them the way God wants us to."
Karen and her mother, Martha, both serve on the board of the Flint
chapter of the Victorious Missionaries, which has about 150 members
in the Flint area. Those members who are able to get out meet on
the third Sunday of the month at St. Pius. The chapter is part of
a larger international organization founded 39 years ago by Fr.
John Maronic, an Oblate of Mary Immaculate. The group is headquartered
at the Shrine of Our Lady of the Snows in Belleville, Ill.
"We are disciples of Christ," says Jean, coordinator
of the Flint chapter. "Our goals are empathy, education, encouragement,
and empowerment. We try to help people cope and show them that there
is hope, even if you are handicapped or ill. We stress the power
of prayer, because everyone can pray."
For more information on the Victorious Missionaries, call Jean
Haines in Flint at (810) 732-1068, or visit the VM Web site at www.vmusa.org
Ministry Focus: Diocese of Lansing Aging Ministry
let these elders pray for you
Throughout the diocese, Catholic seniors from every parish pray
for intentions that are collected year-round by the diocesan ministry
to the aging. According to Ellen McKay, who coordinates the aging
ministry, at least 5,000 prayer intention cards were distributed
to seniors during the diocese's Senior Parishioners Appreciation
Week held in October.
"We've been distributing prayer intentions since 1983,"
McKay explains. "The intentions come from anyone in the diocese
who has something for which they want an elder to pray. ... Our
seniors say they keep the intention cards from year to year. They
don't want to stop praying for someone's intentions just because
they get a new card."
Are the efforts of the senior prayer warriors effective? While
many of the people praying may never know the results of their ministry,
McKay notes that her office does hear back occasionally about the
power of prayer. "We've had several people write an intention
of thanksgiving that their request from the previous year had been
granted," she says. "It's nice to hear about answered
prayers."
If you would like to have a homebound senior pray for your intention,
contact the aging ministry office at (517) 342-2467.
Bringing the Mass to the Homebound
Throughout the diocese, Catholics reach out to the homebound and
those in nursing homes by bringing them Communion, visiting them,
and sending cards and letters to cheer their days. But no single
ministry reaches more people on a weekly basis than the diocesan
TV Outreach Mass:
Televised Outreach Mass: Sundays at 10 a.m.
Fox Channel 47 (Lansing) and Fox Channel 66 (Flint)
Dr. Doyle's focus on the poor
helps give sight to the blind
By Kathleen Lavey | Photography by Christine Jones
Tom
Doyle can't forget the elderly woman he met in Nicaragua in 1996.
The mid-Michigan optometrist was halfway through a seven-day trip
to provide eye examinations in the Central American country when
the woman arrived. She had undergone cataract surgery a few years
before, but had no lens implant to help her focus her eyes. She
could see colors and shapes, but not her grandchildren's faces.
Doyle ran her through a series of tests and wrote a prescription
for glasses. Other volunteers searched the database of donated glasses
and came up with a pair for her.
"Twenty minutes later I saw her standing in the doorway,"
Doyle said. "She got down on her knees in front of me and thanked
God that I came. She asked if our group could stay longer to
take care of more people."
Doyle is a member of the Michigan chapter of Volunteer Optometric
Services to Humanity, or VOSH, as well as the DeWitt Breakfast chapter
of Lions Clubs International. Both groups collect eyeglasses and
send professionals abroad to provide vision care.
The World Health Organization established a 20-year vision care
initiative in 2000 with a goal of eliminating preventable blindness
by that time. It does not estimate the number of people affected
by near- or far-sightedness, but predicts that the worldwide need
for vision care will continue to increase.
On trips to Haiti, Nicaragua, Honduras and a recently-completed
journey to Latvia, Doyle has seen how dire the need can be.
"Really, no matter how bad we think we have it here, when
you see these places, you see how good we have it," he said.
In Honduras, for example, the average income is about $850 a year,
with rural families often earning $30 a month or less. Paying for
an eye exam is out of the question.
On
a typical trip, two to four doctors travel with a dozen or more
other volunteers. They'll send ahead or carry along 4,000 to 8,000
pairs of eyeglasses and vision testing equipment while local Lions
clubs and churches spread the word that they're coming.
Doctors write the prescriptions, then volunteers find the two
pairs of glasses in stock that are the closest to it. The patient
receives the pair that works best for him or her. Volunteers refer
patients with cataracts or other medical needs to local opthalmologists.
On one trip, Doyle and his colleagues discovered that a simple magnifying
glass could help a young man with retinitis pigmentosa to read.
Sometimes - as was the case with a man whose eyes had been burned
by acid from an exploding battery - there is little they can do.
"Almost anywhere we would go, people would line up,"
Doyle said. "You start at 7:30 in the morning and go on until
you can't see because it's dark." Doyle became interested
in optometry at an early age. An athletic boy with poor eyesight,
he often broke his glasses or knocked them out of alignment. He'd
report to the office of Dr. Harold to have them fixed.
"I was visiting his office once or twice a week," Doyle
laughed. "I'd watch him and see what he was doing."
Doyle attended St. Joseph Church with his parents, Rita and Gaylord,
and three younger sisters. The children also attended St. Joseph
School.
"They scrimped and saved to pay tuition and did whatever
was necessary," Doyle said of his parents. Rita, a registered
nurse, also did volunteer time providing religious education for
children with Down's Syndrome.
"It really set an example," Doyle said. He was an altar
server and worked as a custodian at St. Joseph School to earn money
during high school and college. He attended Lansing Community College,
Central Michigan University and graduated from the Illinois College
of Optometry in Chicago.
Doyle made his first trip, to Haiti, in 1979. Corrupt dictator
Baby Doc Duvalier was still in power then, and the military was
ever-present. Even today, Haiti is the poorest country in the
Western Hemisphere. The visit was an eye-opener for Doyle.
"I was a poor student in my last year of school, but I was
thankful for everything that I had," he said. He knew even
then that he'd someday make additional trips. After graduation,
Doyle worked in Lansing for several years, then decided to establish
a practice in DeWitt. He married his wife, Julie, 16 years ago.
They have two daughters, Kelly, 13, and Abbey, 10. They attend St.
Jude Parish, where Doyle was named Usher of the Year in 2001. He
recently finished a yearlong stint as Lions Clubs' district governor,
overseeing 47 Michigan chapters.
By 1996, Doyle felt he was in a position to help again, and made
the Nicaragua trip. He went to Honduras in 1999 and completed the
Latvia trip in September. Doyle often tries to provide more than
simple eye care on his trips, carrying rosaries and Spanish Bibles
to Central America. "It's my opportunity to try to help people,"
he said. He hopes to arrive soon at a point where he can make a
trip every year.
"There are other optometrists in Michigan who have gone on
20 of these trips, so I feel like a novice," he said. He knows
the trips will be important for years to come. "We could spend
a year in one of these countries and never fill the need,"
he said. "It's a drop in the bucket."
How Can You Help?
Want to help a group that provides vision care to the needy in
other nations? The simplest way is to donate eyeglasses or cash.
Volunteers also are needed for overseas trips.
Dr. Doyle challenges churches in the Lansing diocese to partner
with local Lions clubs to collect eyeglasses.
Call the local chapter of Lions Club International to learn more
about organizing a drive.
To donate cash, send checks payable to VOSH/International to:
Charles H. Covington Sr., Secretary/Treasurer VOSH
102 Oakview Circle, Lake Mary, FL 32746-4201
To learn more about VOSH or Lions Clubs' programs, check the
Web at www.vosh.org or www.lionsclubs.org
comfort foods
food, like a loving touch or a glimpse of divine power, has
that ability to comfort
- from Comforting Foods: Feel Good Recipes from America's Great
Chefs.
You
don't have to be a cooking expert to realize that certain foods
make you feel safe and secure, and comfort you in times of need.
It should also come as no surprise that these foods have their origins
in the misty memories of childhood.
Have you ever missed a dish that your mother or grandmother made?
Do the smells of certain foods bring back fond memories of times
together? For most of us it does because food is more than nourishment.
It has meaning to it. Check in with someone who is ill or a relative
you haven't seen in a while. Consider reconnecting with them by
preparing a favorite dish. Chances are it will be a comforting time
for you both. If you don't have any family recipes, here are some
favorites from FAITH. The magazine's staff has a fondness
for mashed potatoes and meatloaf. Below are updated recipes for
these old favorites, complemented by a vegetable side dish that
includes a hint of honey.
Mom's Meatloaf and Tomato Sauce
Yield: 4-6 servings
2 lbs. ground beef
1 minced medium onion
2 eggs
1/2 cup ketchup
1 Tblsp Worcestershire sauce
2 Tsp mustard
2 Tsp salt
2 Tsp pepper
2 slices rye bread, crusts removed
1/2 cup milk
With your hands, mix the ground beef, onion, eggs, ketchup, Worcestershire
sauce, mustard, salt, and pepper. Soak the rye bread in milk and
crumble soaked bread into meat mixture. Form into a rough loaf and
bake on a sheet pan, in a 6-cup casserole dish or in a 9" x
5" loaf pan in a 375° preheated oven for 1 hour. Slice
and serve.
Tomato
Sauce
1 cup chopped onion
2 cloves minced garlic
1 Tblsp olive oil
1/2 cup wine
3 cups chopped canned tomatoes
1/4 cup tomato paste
Crushed red pepper flakes, salt, and pepper
1 Tblsp chopped fresh parsley
Sauté the onion and garlic in olive oil until onion is
soft, about 2 minutes. Add wine and reduce to a third of its volume.
Add tomatoes; cook until tomatoes begin to release their liquid,
and then add tomato paste. Season to taste with a pinch of crushed
red pepper flakes, salt, and pepper and simmer for 15 minutes. Stir
in parsley and heat one minute more. Serve with meatloaf.
Mashed Potatoes with Roasted Garlic
Yield: 4 servings
3 lbs. russet potatoes
1 large head of garlic
1 cup sour cream, half and half or plain yogurt
2-4 Tblsp butter
Salt and pepper
Bake potatoes and garlic head in a preheated 400° oven for
40 minutes; remove garlic and continue cooking potatoes for 20 more
minutes until tender. While the potatoes are still cooking, cut
off the pointed end of the garlic head and squeeze the roasted flesh
from the skin. Split the cooked potatoes, scoop out the flesh into
a large heavy saucepan, and beat in sour cream, half and half or
plain yogurt until light and fluffy. Beat in butter and garlic,
and season liberally with salt and pepper. Reheat in pan or microwave.
Honey-Glazed
Pea Pods and Carrots
Yield: 6 servings
2 cups sliced carrots
1/2 lb. snow peas, trimmed
3 Tblsp butter
1/2 Tsp cornstarch
2 Tsp honey
Bring a large saucepan of salted water to a boil. Add carrots
and cook until tender crisp, about 10 to 12 minutes. Add pea pods
and cook until tender crisp; drain and set aside.
Melt butter in the same pan and stir in cornstarch. Return carrots
and peas to pan and stir in honey. Cook over medium heat, stirring
constantly, until heated through.
Comforting Quotes: Why not consider these quotations from
St. Paul as you enjoy your comfort foods?
- Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the
Father of mercies and the God of all comfort, who comforts us
in all our afflictions, that we also may be able to comfort
those who are in any distress by the comfort with which we ourselves
are comforted by God. 2 Corinthians 1:3-4
- For I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor
principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor
powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature will be
able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ
Jesus our Lord. Romans 8:38-39
- For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord.
Walk, then, as children of light (For the fruit of the light
is in all goodness and justice and truth). Ephesians 5:8-9
'______' was here
By Douglas E. Culp
How many times have you seen some variation of this phrase carved
into a desk, written in a bathroom stall, or spray painted on the
side of a building? What compels human beings, across all age groups
and levels of education, to make this assertion in places where
it will most likely be seen by another?
The movie, The Shawshank Redemption, provides a window
into the reason for this kind of behavior in one of its more powerful
scenes. For those who are not familiar with this movie, it is
set in a prison and it so happened that one of the convicts was
approved for release. He was provided a job in a supermarket as
a bagger. After several weeks, he arrived to the room in the halfway
house that served as his home. He put on his best set of clothes
and readied himself for a journey. After multiple decades in prison,
he had been released as an old man into a world that no longer had
any meaning nor made any sense to him. Uprooted, he lost the network
of relationships and support that he had built during nearly a lifetime
in prison.
He
stood on a chair and dug the following into a wooden rafter: "Brooks
was here." The noose then went around his neck and the chair
was knocked on its side. Soon after, he breathed his last breath.
This character died alone, a stranger to the world with no one to
share his story. Yet, he still needed to share it, and this need
found expression in a last impulse to leave a mark indicating that
he had indeed been alive.
There is another prevalent phenomenon in our culture that belongs
in this discussion: the image of the bartender as counsel to the
masses. The bartender is portrayed as someone to whom one can
talk when no one else in the world understands. Why is this? Could
it be that the bartender is by virtue of his position present and
available in a place where people too often turn when things do
not go right? This is probably part of it, but perhaps more importantly,
it is that the "good" bartenders, the ones that everyone
considers friendly, simply listen. When a lonely person is hurting
or wants to share a triumph, the bartender fills the need of the
person to be heard.
We could learn a thing from the bartender. During my time in the
seminary, I served as a Eucharistic minister at a hospital. I remember
that many of the times, I was at a loss for words - and that these
were often the best visits. Because I did not speak, the other person
could and inevitably would share with me his or her story. Some
of these stories were simply amazing - stories of a concentration
camp survivor, of a captain of industry, and of a teacher of over
30 years.
There is indeed something inside all of us that has a need to
tell the story of our life. For those who are gravely ill, this
need becomes even more pronounced. The dwindling presence of our
religious orders in hospitals often leaves our loved ones dying
alone, without closure, possessed of the suspicion that it does
not matter whether they ever existed, and that they left no footprints.
They simply get lost in the "coldness" of the institution.
As a result, attention is the greatest gift we can give those
who are suffering and/or approaching the end of their life journey.
In a society where attention is a precious commodity, this is
no easy order. True attention requires us to be present physically
first and foremost. In the busyness of our day, amid the noise and
demands of our own lives, it can be challenging (to say the least)
to make time for another. This, however, is not sufficient by itself.
We must also be "present". This gets to the real meaning
of attention, i.e. to attend. In other words, we must be active
as a listener and therefore be willing to be quiet; we must clear
the clutter of thoughts, noise, and lists of things to do from our
mind. In short, giving our attention in this way is similar to the
same movements that are required to enter into a state of meditation
and prayer. In fact, I would argue that such acts of attention are
prayer.
So what is it in us that needs to say "I am here! I existed!"
- it is the need to affirm that it is good we have lived. Carving
one's name into wood, spraying graffiti on a wall, sharing our sorrows
and joys with someone, or simply telling our story -- these are
all ways of being heard - and to be heard is to exist. Allowing
our sick brothers and sisters, to be heard is one of the greatest
gifts that we can give. It acknowledges their value, their existence;
it mirrors the action of God who looked on that which was created
and affirmed that it indeed was good.
